


Feral

by Gabrielle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:12:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 59
Words: 197,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabrielle/pseuds/Gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Set in Season Three, starting at the end of <i>Doppelgangland</i>* The spell to send Vampire Willow back to the Wishverse works, but someone else ends up in Sunnydale in her place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

  
Feral (Prologue)  
  
  
  
It was a dusty, dilapidated factory, but the group gathered therein was well used to working in grimy and disreputable surroundings. Willy’s Bar, the sewers… Yes, this place was pretty much par for the course. It wasn’t as if they had a choice, at any rate. This was where the vampire version of Willow Rosenberg had entered this world and this where they needed to be to send her back.  
  
There was an odd sense of unreality about it all – perhaps because no one they knew had been killed – and the vampire facsimile of Willow was easy to regard as a cartoon. After all, the Willow they knew – the Willow who was even now helping to prepare the spell to send her double back to where she came from? No, she wasn’t exactly terrifying. It was comfortably simple to see the vampire as nothing more than a girl in a ridiculous costume and too much make-up.  
  
Xander sidled up to her. “So, um, in your reality, I’m like this bad-ass vampire, huh? People afraid of me?” He seemed not to notice the way Angel stared blankly and the vampire-Willow rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah. I’m bad.” It was an enjoyable conceit to him, one which would fuel some hot sessions of self-gratification. Nothing to do with death and blood, of course. Just Xander in leather, desired by the ladies. No more real than the idea of Willow as some sort of Mistress of Evil.  
  
Oz helped with the final preparation; his eyes weren’t on his girlfriend, but on the facsimile of her standing arrogantly off to the side. Giles’s eyes were on the same creature. Anya stared off at nothing, looking peevish  
  
For a moment, as Buffy stood next to the actual girl, she seemed to perceive the vampire as something other than an uncomfortable caricature. “I’m not sure about releasing this thing into the wild, Will. It is a demon.”  
  
“I just can’t kill her,” Willow argued. Her reluctance was understandable – the vampire, after all, shared her face, name, even her identity, albeit in a different world.  
  
“Me neither,” Buffy agreed.  
  
Willow went on as if Buffy hadn’t spoken, her double sparking an existential crisis of sorts. “I mean, I know she’s not me. We have a big nothing in common, but still.”  
  
“There but for the grace of getting bit,” Buffy mused.  
  
“We send her back to her world, then she stands a chance.” Even her own close encounter with the vampire, one which had almost ended with her being turned by, in a sense, herself, didn’t seem to register, or if it did, it didn’t stand a chance against her odd identification with the creature. “It’s the way it should be, anyway.”  
  
Giles’s voice broke through Willow and Buffy’s ramblings. “Uh, we’re about ready here.” Willow sighed and walked over to say a last farewell to her doppelganger just as Giles turned to Anya. “Don’t you try any tricks now, dear.”  
  
Anya held her head up haughtily. “I don’t need any tricks. When I get my powers back, you will all grovel before me.”  
  
Willow and her double both snorted derisively. It only reinforced the sense that almost everyone had that the vampire version wasn’t so horrifying. After all, how evil could she be if she was anything like the Willow they all knew and loved?  
  
Angel might have been the exception to the general consensus, but who could tell? He stood on the sidelines, his expression blank, eyes locked on the vampire-Willow, silent as death.  
  
Giles, for all that he evinced no fear of the creature, was eager to get rid of the vampire, perhaps seeing her as his failure in another universe or perhaps simply desirous of restoring things to their proper order. “Yes, well, if you, uh, Willows, would like to, uh, complete the circle.”  
  
It was time. Willow reverted to her usual weaponry – optimism. Perhaps she hoped that she would rub off on her double, bringing some of the goodness she herself possessed out of her vampire counterpart. “Good luck,” she offered with a cheery grin. “Try not to kill people.” As her double remained unmoved, Willow pulled her into a hug. The response was certainly not the one for which she’d hoped as she was groped by – well – herself. “Hands! Hands!” she cried out as she pushed her smirking doppelganger away.  
  
Seconds later, they knelt, facing Giles and Anya, and Giles intoned the spell from the book in his lap. A few seconds after that, the vampire was gone.  
  
Everyone stared into space, each lost in thought, all but Anya apparently united in their relief at everything being back to the way it was. With any luck, the events of the day might well have no lasting effect. Perhaps the gift for willful amnesia enjoyed by most Sunnydale residents would kick in and no one save the people in this room would even remember that anything unusual had happened.  
  
But then…  
  
Xander turned to his side, where Angel stood, impassive as ever, and then turned and stared in obvious confusion past the three still on the floor. Something was very strange here, and it was currently behind bars just over Giles’s shoulder. “Guys? Why is there another Angel in the cage?”  
  
  
To be continued…


	2. Chapter One

Feral (Chapter One)  
  
  
  
“Guys? Why is there another Angel in the cage?”  
  
Xander’s words shook Willow out of her existential musings on identity and her theories on what might be happening to her vampire double. She stared at the cage Xander was talking about before turning and looking back over her shoulder…and then looking at the cage again. Oh God. He was right. She stood up and turned around. “How come there are two of you?” she asked Angel – the one who had been here before the spell – before turning and looking back over her shoulder and seeing that the other one was still there. He looked frightened and confused. Guess that made sense, huh?  
  
Where was he? Oh God. Seconds ago there’d been an arrow just piercing his chest and he’d been about to turn to dust. How did this happen? Was this Hell? It had to be, didn’t it? Because Willow and Xander were here. Something was wrong though – heartbeats, too many heartbeats. And wait…who was that standing over there? And why did they look like something like _him_?  
  
Okay, wait a minute. What happened? Because Angel was standing right over there and yet … Yeah, there he was in the cage, too. But there was something different about the one in the cage, and it wasn’t just the torn clothes and general scruffiness. Buffy wasn’t sure what it was, but her spider senses didn’t lie. Would be nice if they had an instruction manual though, because she would sure like to know the details about exactly what they meant sometimes. Like now, for instance.   
  
Oh how long it had been since Angel had seen himself. Vague snatches of dreams of even vaguer recollections of seeing himself in the mirror were all he’d had until right now – but somehow it wasn’t like seeing himself. For all that scent and other senses told him that this was some version of him, it still felt like looking at a stranger. Funny thing. Was it because during all this time dealing with Willow’s doppelganger, the idea that there was another _him_ out there somewhere had never occurred to him? Or was it something else?  
  
Buffy turned to Angel – _her_ Angel. “You wanna talk to this guy? Find out what…?” Her voice trailed off, as she noticed that Giles was already doing just that.  
  
“Hello… Angel?”   
  
It had been a long time since anyone had called him by that name. Years, in fact. It didn’t fit anymore and he stared at the man who looked so much like Rupert Giles, the Watcher. The man who’d waited for a Slayer who never came – not until it was too late. “Is this Hell?” he asked, his voice low.   
  
“No.”   
  
Giles seemed taken aback and Willow hastened to his rescue. “You’re safe here,” she said, trying to give the duplicate Angel a reassuring smile. What happened next shocked her and sort of hurt her feelings. Angel number two jumped back, as far back as he could, to get farther away from her. She backed away from the cage. “Sorry.”   
  
Okay… This guy was scared of Willow? Buffy was confused. Because Willow’s fuzzy sweater didn’t seem like something that would strike fear in anybody’s heart, let alone a vampire. Also, was it just her or was it weird that he was staying right where he was? There was no door on that cage. Why didn’t he just walk out?  
  
Assessing the scene, and admittedly impatient to size up his double, Angel decided it was time for him to take over the interrogation duties. He strode over to where the duplicate stood behind dusty bars. They locked eyes and at least one of Angel’s questions was answered: this one too had a soul. He nodded a greeting. Saying “hi” seemed… silly, somehow, and the last thing he wanted to convey was weakness. And yeah, maybe posturing for his double was as silly as saying hi, but it might not be. There was no telling what differences there were between them and it wouldn’t be remiss to let this creature know that there was no deceiving him.   
  
This wasn’t Hell. That much was becoming clear. The Willow he saw before him…she was nothing like the creature who had tortured and tormented him for so long. She was human, just as she’d been when he’d first come to Sunnydale. But she was different from the naïve girl to whom he’d given barely a moment’s thought in the days before her turning. No, this girl was innocent, but there was something else – something stronger, more pure, and more compelling. She wasn’t the girl he’d known in either incarnation. He didn’t know what that meant, but it was true.  
  
The Xander he saw, though, now he was a different story. This wasn’t the sniveling, leather-clad sadist about to plunge an arrow into his chest – here he was human again and utterly without power. This one would be easy prey; yes he would. That was a thought he stored away for later, however. Now was a time to make quick assessments and figure out how to deal with these people who looked familiar and yet were utter strangers to him.  
  
There was the Slayer, standing by the side of the one who must be his counterpart in this place. This Slayer didn’t have the distinctive scar he’d so recently seen and the vampire with whom she seemed so comfortable wasn’t weak from hunger like he himself was. They were close; he could tell. How could that be?  
  
Something else: both seemed suspicious of him. The same was true for the Watcher and for the one who looked like one of the leaders of the ragtag band of useless White Hats. He was different here, too. A wolf. A wolf who watched him with the eyes of a boy.   
  
The only ones who didn’t seem to view him as a potential threat were a blonde girl he didn’t recognize who seemed bored and annoyed and…  
  
Willow.   
  
“Do you know where you are?” That might have been as foolish-sounding as the casual greeting he’d eschewed, but Angel’s question had purpose. He’d noticed the way his ‘other’ was scanning the room – best to shift the focus to himself… and establish himself as the alpha presence. The answer he got was a tight shake of the head. “You’re in Sunnydale.” His double’s eyes widened and he looked confused. He might not realize it, but he was answering Angel’s other questions.   
  
“It’s different from where you came from,” Willow interjected. She wasn’t sure she should be assuming he came from the same place as _her_ doppelganger, but it seemed like a safe bet…didn’t it? How many alternate Sunnydales could there be? And was it really wise to let her thoughts roam off on that kind of tangent? Because right now she figured that being ‘Focus Girl’ was probably a better idea.  
  
“It was much better,” Anya groused, and Willow glared at her. It was obvious her words upset Angel. Not Angel-Angel, the other Angel…and was she the only one who found it confusing even _thinking_ about these two? Because it was giving her a headache.   
  
“Are we going to send him back?” Buffy asked Angel. She tried to whisper, but she’d forgotten that the other Angel was a vampire too and her eyes widened as he stared at her. It wasn’t just fear in his eyes - no, she knew what that was. It was hate. “I’m sorry,” she said, biting her tongue before she called him Angel. The name didn’t belong to him. Sure, he looked like her Angel but… but the more she looked at him, the more he _didn’t_ look like Angel at all. Well, he did, but… Holy God but this was confusing. Buffy was just glad Faith wasn’t here to add to her mental chaos by offering up a bunch of porno-inspired ideas for what could be done with two Angels. Because really? The vampire version of Willow had provided all the sleazy innuendos she wanted to hear for at least a month. And watching that creature grope the real Willow? Yeah, good thing Faith hadn’t seen _that_ either.  
  
 _Are we going to send him back?_  
  
The words rang in his ears. If he were sent back… He’d be dust. Assessing his situation - they seemed to know something about the world from which he came - he decided to reveal that very fact. Turning, with some reflexive reluctance, to the human Willow of this strange, new world, he spoke with quiet gravity. “There was... a stake in my chest. I was about to be killed.”  
  
Schooling his face into a neutral expression ( _don’t show fear_ ), he watched carefully to see how these people reacted. It was Willow who seemed the most horrified. How different she was from the Willow he knew. It was an adjustment to see her as an ally – more than an adjustment – but he didn’t have the luxury of time to process and reflect. No, choices needed to be made and rusty instinct needed to creak and groan its alacritous way back into use.   
  
“You were being staked?” Willow stared at the other Angel. Gosh. It was pretty lucky that he’d ended up here, wasn’t it? Because, hey, he was one of the good guys. It seemed kind of wrong for him to be dusted. Whipping around and fixing Giles with her Resolve Face, she declared, “We can’t send him back there to die.”  
  
Much to her distress, Giles looked as if that was exactly what he’d been planning to do. Okay, she got that he had lingering ‘Angel issues.’ To be honest, so did she. But _this_ Angel, the one from some other Sunnydale, hadn’t killed Jenny Calendar – at least not the one they knew and missed so much. Giles needed to be more sympathetic. “We’re not sending him back,” she reiterated, glancing back at other-Angel and hoping she looked reassuring.   
  
Angel listened to Willow’s pronouncement with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it was hard not to identify with his twin; but on the other hand, there was no telling just what this could mean. They were interfering in the order of things without any idea if they were doing good or ill. Sometimes sacrifices needed to be made for the greater good – his own sojourn in Hell came to mind – and this might be one of them. And then of course there was another possibility: What if this creature was lying?  
  
His eyes locked with those of his doppelganger, but there were no clues to be found. Was he himself so inscrutable? He hoped so because he didn’t want this ‘other’ to be able to read _him_. When it came to the balance of power, Angel wanted it to tilt his way; if it couldn’t, he at least wanted it to be even. Funny how it wasn’t as hard as one might think to see himself as the enemy…but then again, he shared a body with a demon who’d gotten loose and rained havoc and death on this town before trying to end the world.  
  
Had this version of himself ever lost his soul?   
  
Was his curse even the same?  
  
Willow found herself rounded on, not by Giles but by Xander. “Great. As if one Angel wasn’t bad enough. You know, I thought you’d realized that magic was a bad thing after that mess with Spike.”  
  
“Excuse me? Because magic did not cause that! And anyway, how is this my fault? Anya’s the Vengeance Demon. She probably did this! Did you think about that?” Anya didn’t say a word in response, just stood there sighing heavily and looking annoyed, so Willow kept ranting. “Besides – what if we’re _supposed_ to save Ang…” She turned to the double still standing behind bars. “Do you have another name we could call you? I mean, it’s sort of confusing since there’s already an Angel,” she tilted her head towards that very vampire, “and he was kind of here first and… Is there a nickname or anything we could call you?” Her expression was – she hoped – gentle and compassionate. He was looking at her sorta funny and it suddenly occurred to her that he and her vamp-self probably weren’t pals in their dimension.  
  
Only this world’s Willow seemed to be on his side and he needed to at least make sure her support for him was firmly entrenched, so he made a calculated decision. Using the truth had done him a small amount of good already. More might well be a weapon also. Sometimes it was best to be thought weak and helpless, to engender sympathy, even pity. Because he wanted to stay here – he _had_ to stay here. “Puppy,” he said softly, letting some of the humiliation the name caused bleed through his formerly impassive mien. “That’s what you… The one you are there...she's different. Puppy is what _she_ called me.”  
  
Excellent gambit because her eyes grew wide and soft and full of pain. “Oh.”  
  
“Puppy?” Xander spluttered and Buffy turned and glared at him at the exact same moment Angel did. It wasn’t funny. Not when ‘Puppy’ was the counterpart of the vampire she loved, even if the more she looked at him, the less like her Angel he seemed.   
  
The wheels were turning in Willow’s head. ‘Puppy’. What kind of a name was…?   
  
Oh God. She got it. (Not all that hard, she guessed, considering how skanky and oversexed her double was.) That was just… No wonder he had backed away from her. Oh God. The vampire version of her… She was horrible – much worse than Willow had ever imagined. How could she…? “I knew she was... but calling you...and that’s… We won’t call you that here, okay?” She locked eyes with him, hoping he could see that she was absolutely nothing like the evil, leather-clad vampire they’d just sent back where she came from. “Is there some other name…? You can pick anything you like.”  
  
“Liam.” There was that soft voice again and Willow’s eyes stayed on him.  
  
“That’s a nice name.”  
  
“It was mine…when I was human.”  
  
Angel looked past Willow, even past his twin, trying to process everything that he was learning, everything that was happening. The idea of being another vampire’s pet, submitting to the devil only knew what… It made him shudder, but what he had to admit was that he felt no small amount of contempt for this other. How could he allow himself to be degraded to that degree? Yeah, sure, he himself had lived in alleys and eaten rats…but he’d been no one’s slave. He was almost surprised they shared the same human name. It was hard to believe they were the same creature in any way.  
  
“Liam it is, then,” Giles said crisply, his stern tone making everything solid again. Angel was almost grateful. He fought back the urge to smile as Buffy took his hand, noticing the way this other… _Liam_ stared at their entwined fingers.  
  
Liam… The one who’d lost himself for too long in the terrible role of ‘Puppy’ said the old name over and over in his mind, letting it travel through every part of him, taking it for his own. Because no, he wasn’t Angel – he wasn’t anything like the creature whose world this was. His eyes were drawn to the way the Slayer held Angel’s hand. That was something he filed away as important. Those two were more than allies, more than friends even, and the blood in Liam’s veins curdled. This girl… no, she wasn’t the hard, selfish bitch who’d scorned the terrible work of guarding the Hellmouth, but she was a Slayer. He’d thought the one from his world was pretty and he’d sworn to fight by her side, but unlike Angel, he’d never lower himself to being the swain of the Chosen One. How different this creature was from him – how much he must hate himself to mate with a Slayer.   
  
Of course, he might also find it productive to ponder why a Slayer would be with one of his kind. It hadn’t taken him much time, after all, to realize that she was suspicious of him. Yes, she bore watching, and not just because of the identity of her lover.   
  
Willow felt Oz behind her a second before his arm went around her shoulders and she turned to him and smiled. “Hey.” He smiled at her, saying nothing. She was kind of used to that. At first it had been weird, but she knew how to read his silences now; he said more without words than she did when she babbled, just not so noisily.  
  
It was hard to believe she had almost thrown what they had away.   
  
She was distracted from her detour into thoughts of her own love life by Buffy’s voice.  
  
“Okay. If Liam is going to be staying in Sunnydale, I think we better figure out where he’s going to stay.” Buffy looked around, including everyone in her statement, and she was only mildly surprised to see that at some point during the questions and the sorting out of what to call the new guy, Anya had disappeared. Sadly, she was pretty sure the girl who’d caused all the trouble in the first place hadn’t gone off to the Demon Unemployment Office to file for benefits. They’d be hearing from her again. Still, it wasn’t like she had her powers and now that Willow was onto her, there was pretty much no chance she’d get them back – the only other powerful witch in town was living in a Habitrail in Willow’s bedroom – so Buffy could save the worrying about her for a slow day… if she ever had one, that is.  
  
Angel waited a moment, though he already knew exactly where Liam was going to stay. It was a source of internal conflict. On the one hand, he did find this ‘what might have been’ of himself somewhat repellent; on the other hand, seeing how different he was, Angel knew that it was crucial for someone to keep an eye on him, find out what he was really like. In addition, Angel was the only one who had blood in his refrigerator…and chains in case things got out of hand “He can stay at the mansion with me.”  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	3. Chapter Two

Feral (Chapter Two)  
  
  
  
It was a quiet walk back to the mansion, not that Angel was surprised by that. Liam (and no, Angel wasn’t terribly comfortable with the fact that this creature had chosen to use his – _their_ – human name) seemed like a rather sullen and surly creature. He hoped, however, that he could get more information out of him than the little he’d divulged earlier, though admittedly he was queasy about the idea of hearing about his double’s time as ... Shooting a glance at his counterpart, he suppressed a shudder.   
  
‘Puppy’. How could he have allowed himself to be so debased and degraded?  
  
“I have blood,” he offered by way of conversation when they finally reached home. He flipped on the lights, thinking – and not for the first time – that they didn’t do much to chase away the gloom of this place. Sometimes even he found it a bit oppressive. Still, it was oddly…comforting, maybe? For all that he’d had time to adjust to the changes in the world, a part of him would always belong to an era of candlelight and roaring fires – of shadowed corners and true darkness in the dead of night.  
  
Liam looked around the place where he’d be staying for the time being. It wasn’t far enough removed from the dank stone and dampness of his former abode for his liking. Frankly, he’d been expecting something more lavish and elegantly-appointed after he’d heard the Slayer (Buffy – remember to call her Buffy) refer to it as a mansion. Dilapidated, moss-grown ruin was a better, if lengthier, descriptor of this pile. Still, at least it was a place to lay his head and ruminate on what had befallen him – and what his next move was going to be. “Blood would be good,” he said to the one who wore the name Angel here…perhaps too long after the offer had been made to him, but he could blame his lapse in etiquette on the stress of his sudden arrival in this new dimension. “Thanks.” Adding that last word would help, wouldn’t it? Unfortunately, his double’s face was too impassive to be a source of information of any kind.  
  
Deciding to simply take his cues from Angel’s behavior and worry about understanding the man later, he followed him into the surprisingly modern kitchen. So far, it was his favorite room in the house. Doing his best to appear casual and unobservant, he nonetheless watched carefully as Angel removed two bags of blood from the refrigerator, noting that there were also cans of soda, a block of cheese, apples, and some celery in there. You never knew what knowledge was or wasn’t important and in this case, it seemed that this information proved that the Slayer was a frequent guest. Unless Angel had an unusual taste for human food.   
  
The seconds seemed to stretch into minutes – or hours – as Angel silently waited for the ding of the microwave to tell him that the blood was ready. It was as disconcerting as ever, perhaps more, to be in the same room with… himself. You’d think living with a demon inside him – a demon which was in so many ways its own creature – would ease his discomfiture, but no. He made every effort to appear entirely blasé, however. Evincing his unease would give… _Liam_ the upper hand.  
  
At last. The microwave signaled the end of the heating process and Angel extracted the mugs from inside, then handed one to Liam. “When you’re done, I’ll show you where you can take a shower and sleep. I’m sure I have some clothes that will fit you.” He smiled slightly as he said those last words, hoping to disarm his companion with a bit of levity. His eyes met stone. Great. He drank his own blood in silence. There had to be a way to get this guy to open up. It was just going to take some time to figure it out.  
  
  
  
“So… Puppy? What did they do? Walk him around on a leash?” Xander asked. Buffy fought to keep from staring in shock at his cluelessness, but it was a losing battle. Still, she at least managed to keep her mouth shut because it was pretty obvious that Willow was shaken up about the whole thing. Couldn’t say she blamed her. Having the world’s skankiest vampire twin would be upsetting to anyone, but to Willow? Willow, whose idea of being a bad girl involved, at worst, cutting class? Yeah, this had to be messing with her head. Especially since the evidence of just how evil and skanky her double was had just headed back to Angel’s house.  
  
Speaking of that… okay, it wasn’t like the whole ‘Puppy’ thing had actually involved _Willow_ , her best friend – or even the real _Angel_ – but Buffy realized that she was sort of creeped out too. “Can we talk about something else? Please?”  
  
Willow could not have been more grateful to Buffy than she was right now. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about the horrible things the vampire version of her had done to… “And anyway, his name is Liam now,” she added to Buffy’s plea, throwing in her Resolve Face for good measure. Xander knew better than to mess with her when she brought out that face. At least she hoped he did.  
  
She leaned against Oz, who was playing with her hair, just the way he always did. It was the reassurance she needed. Gosh was she thankful that he wasn’t treating her differently after seeing her evil double. “She’s not you,” he said softly, so softly that she knew she was the only one who heard, and Willow felt her heart almost burst. She turned her face to his and he smiled that soft smile of his. She could tell that he saw it – the love in her eyes, the love that was all for him now and no one else – and she marveled again at how stupid she’d been. Why had she ever believed there was anything better than this?   
  
“Well, whatever he’s called, he gives me a wiggins, and I am going on the record and saying that one Angel is horrible enough, but two? It’s not like we were lacking in badness before, what with the whole mysterious Mayor stuff and the various other creepy things we have to deal with on an everyday basis.” Xander might have said more but he managed to knock the lamp off Willow’s nightstand while he was gesturing his distaste.   
  
“Could you please not destroy my room?”  
  
Why were they even up here anyway? If her parents somehow found out she had Oz in her bedroom... Yeah, they should be downstairs in the living room. But the truth was, she liked it better in here. This was the only room that felt like hers…that felt like _home_. And anyway, her parents were going to be out of town 'til after her graduation “Does anybody want any sodas or anything?”  
  
“I’m good,” Oz answered, that sweet smile still there. She loved that smile.   
  
“Me, too.”  
  
Xander looked like he was about to say something, but then he didn’t, which was good, because Buffy would have punched him in the arm if he had. Willow and Oz were having a moment and the last thing Buffy wanted was for something to spoil that, even if Willow _had_ offered to go get refreshments. If there was anything in her life that made her smile, it was seeing how happy Willow was with Oz. She remembered what that was like – looking into the eyes of the man she loved and feeling like the whole world existed just for them…and that their happiness would last forever and ever.   
  
Okay, in her case, that hadn’t exactly worked out so well, but Willow and Oz had a chance and Buffy loved her best friend enough that she was able to get over whatever pangs of jealousy she felt and just be happy for her. “So, any luck cracking the Mayor’s files, Will?”  
  
“Not yet,” Willow grumbled, wishing Buffy hadn’t brought it up. She felt like a failure. “He sure is paranoid. No other city agency has anything like the security he uses. He really needs to work on his trust issues.”  
  
“Well, evil tends to have those,” Oz offered, putting his arm around her.   
  
She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed before a sudden recollection made her sit straight up. “Oh no! I was supposed to write that Roosevelt paper for Percy!”  
  
“Relax, Willow. I think you have an excuse.”  
  
Xander’s blithe words just raised her hackles. “Oh great idea there. I can just tell Principal Snyder that the reason Percy failed and can no longer play basketball is that I was too busy doing battle with my creepy vampire twin from Bizarro-World. That’ll go over real well.”  
  
“All right. Maybe I didn’t exactly think things through, but…”  
  
“But what? You’re not the one who has to do this. I am. And I’m the one who’ll suddenly find that, instead of going to Yale, I’ll be begging for a place on the waiting list for community college if I don’t turn Percy into an A student by doing all his work for him.”  
  
“Is there a waiting list for community college?”  
  
Buffy snorted at Xander’s ability to completely miss the point. Not that she didn’t think Willow’s fears were kinda extra-dire. But then Xander spoke again and actually said what might have been the right thing. “Maybe Percy will skip school tomorrow. Vampire-you did kind of humiliate him at the Bronze tonight. And by kind of, I mean turned him into her bitch in front of all of his friends.”  
  
“I did? I mean _she_ did?”   
  
“Yeah. She held him up by his throat while he flailed with pretty impressive helplessness. I distinctly recall the smell of urine as he ran away like a little girl. It could be my favorite night at the Bronze ever except for the part where we thought you’d been turned into a vampire.”  
  
“Thinking you were dead was definitely not of the fun,” Buffy agreed as her eyes stayed on Willow and Oz. It really _had_ been awful, thinking that Willow had gone out and gotten bit. “I promise never to call you ‘reliable’ ever again, okay?”  
  
Offering a rueful smile, Willow replied, “It’s okay, Buffy. I’m sorta thinking that there are worse things than being reliable.” There sure were. The name ‘Puppy’ echoed in her brain… She was torn between wanting to pretend she had no idea what that could mean and going on as if everything was the same as it had been yesterday and wanting to rush over to Angel’s place and apologize to Liam for, oh, maybe five hours.   
  
Maybe she’d split the difference. Hang with Oz tonight and go apologize tomorrow. After school, of course, since even a small thing like cutting school seemed way too close to badness for comfort. She leaned against Oz again, finding solace in the way he was being so completely normal.  
  
Right now, what she wanted was for Buffy and Xander to leave so she could be alone with the one person in the world who could chase all the awful thoughts away.   
  
Much to her delighted shock – a nice change from the other kinds of shock she was used to from today – Buffy seemed to get it. “Well, if you’re all intent on reclaiming your reliable crown, we should probably let you get some sleep. C’mon, Xander, I’ll walk you home.”  
  
Willow got up, her sense of etiquette compelling her to walk them to the door. Everyone ignored Xander’s question as to why they couldn’t get a ride home with Oz. “Thanks,” Willow whispered in Buffy’s ear as she hugged her friend good-bye. A wink and a smile were her answer and a moment later Willow closed the door behind her departing guests and headed back upstairs. Some smoochies and snuggling were definitely what she needed right now.  
  
Tomorrow was soon enough to feel all guilty and horrible again. And hey, maybe Xander was right and Percy wouldn’t be at school. A girl could hope.  
  
  
  
Being confined in damp darkness for the past two years hadn’t destroyed Liam’s ability to feel the change from day to night and back again, even if he had seen the sky on only the barest handful of occasions in all that time. It was a little after sunrise now. Time for all good vampires to be getting their rest. And he was one, wasn’t he? A good vampire. The rarest of all exotic creatures. Singular unto himself…at least until now.  
  
What was Angel’s life like? Soft, obviously, compared to his. In this world, the Slayer had actually arrived in Sunnydale on schedule. And she had friends who helped her in her duties…including a version of Willow who was nothing like the one he knew.  
  
And that’s who his thoughts kept coming back to, didn’t they? Willow. Not surprising since the vampire he knew had ruled his life for quite a long time – a time that felt even longer than its span of days.   
  
This girl, though, the one who lived in this world… she was nothing like the creature from his world. No, this Willow was sweet and pure and she’d seemed very concerned for him. More so than any of the others had. He was curious about her. Obviously, she was part of the Slayer’s entourage, but why? And what about the White Hat boy – the one who was a werewolf here? She carried his scent, but they weren’t lovers, so who was he to her?  
  
He needed to learn the dynamics of the group, more than he’d gained from the apercus of a few hours ago, and not just because of his curiosity about Willow. If he was going to be here for any length of time – and he was, possibly forever – he had to know what was what. Tonight, like it or not, he was going to make nice with his counterpart, see if he could learn a few things, ingratiate himself with the man so he could learn even more later.   
  
He laid down on the dusty bed – his nose picking up the faded scents of two vampires he hadn’t seen or thought of in many decades. Spike and... Drusilla. How long it had been since he'd encountered her scent. They’d been here, seemingly together, though not for a little while. Another difference between this world and his. Another set of questions he would seek to get answered by his pampered twin. But for now… For now, he would rest. With his plan firmly in mind, he closed his eyes. Funny how he wasn’t at all worried that Angel would stake him as he slept.  
  
  
  
If only today was Saturday or Sunday. But no, Angel couldn’t be that lucky. Today was Wednesday and Buffy was in school - attending classes, hanging out with her friends - and there was no way for him to talk to her until at least this afternoon.  
  
He wanted so badly to get her take on Liam. They hadn’t had the chance to talk at all last night and he wished they had. But under the circumstances…  
  
And now? Now there was a stranger with his face and parts of his biography asleep upstairs in Spike’s old room. Was there a Spike where Liam came from? What about Drusilla? Darla?   
  
So many questions and no answers. All he’d managed to get out of his guest last night was that Buffy had only arrived in Sunnydale a few hours before he’d nearly been dusted... the moment that he was cast out of his world and into this one. While that explained how Willow and Xander had wound up turned, many other blanks remained to be filled in. Chief among them, at least in terms of Angel’s personal curiosity level: How had Liam ended up as a vampire’s pet?   
  
He was almost angry at his counterpart, feeling a sense of shame at having what he thought of rather proprietarily as _his_ identity, _his_ name, _his_ reputation degraded. That was something he needed to get over, or at least conceal, and he knew it.   
  
The fire blazed away in the massive stone fireplace and Angel stood, staring into it. Hell – Liam had never been there, had he? No. Had Liam ever lost his soul? Angel had wondered about that earlier, but it seemed unlikely to him now. He wanted to ask Liam about his curse; if it was the same as his, did he know about the loophole? Not that there was much likelihood of Liam finding perfect happiness in Sunnydale and it wasn’t as if they were going to let him leave. Not anytime soon. But still…  
  
It was a mistake, he was beginning to realize, to assume that the two worlds were different only in the sense that Buffy had been a latecomer to Sunnydale. The people, even if they had the same faces and superficially similar lives in some ways, had to be, at core, fundamentally different from who they were here. Maybe Buffy had been right when she’d said to Willow that her vampire double was nothing like her – not because that would be true if she were bitten _here_ , but because the girl who had been made into _that_ vampire might well have been unlike this world’s Willow.  
  
Great. More questions, and this batch might well be beyond the power of Liam to answer.   
  
Why, he suddenly wondered as he caught himself pacing the stone floor of his cavernous front room, did he even think it was so important to know any of these things anyway? The door to that world was closed now… wasn’t it? The goings-on there were of purely academic interest, if that, and there were immediate dangers on which they all needed to focus. The Mayor, for one.   
  
Still, maybe there were clues to be found or lessons to be learned from the alternate Sunnydale. Also, like it or not, Liam was here and they needed to understand him and what made him tick. Because the last thing they needed was a loose cannon with _his_ face on the loose.  
  
So okay – tonight he’d see about doing a better job of making friends with this guy.   
  
He stopped pacing and stared into the fireplace once more feeling restless and futile with hours to go before he could act on his decision. Sleeping would be a good idea, but his mind was still racing and even closing his eyes seemed like a waste of time. He wished Buffy were here.   
  
  
  
To be continued...


	4. Chapter Three

Feral (Chapter Three)  
  
  
  
The fruit in Willow’s hand seemed to glow red and while she knew it was her imagination, it felt as if it were almost scorching hot.   
  
Percy had not only done his homework, he’d done two versions of it…and he’d given her an apple. That was all because of what her vampire doppelganger had done to him last night and, as much as it shamed her, a part of Willow enjoyed his fear and his servility…or a part of her _would_ have if she’d never seen a vampire staring at her with a mix of hatred and terror – the kind of terror Percy couldn’t even dream of. A vampire whose name had been stolen from him and replaced with the degrading label of ‘Puppy.’  
  
No, it wasn’t possible to enjoy Percy’s groveling now.   
  
“You wanna go out tonight?” Buffy asked… for the second time.   
  
Hadn’t Willow just finished giving a fractured speech about virtue and vice? She wasn’t sure. She was getting lost in her thoughts a lot today and that made it hard to remember things she’d said. “No,” she replied. “I kinda want to go apologize to Pu… I mean Liam.”   
  
“Will, you didn’t do anything to him. That was _her_ , remember? And she’s not you. Never will be you. Never _could_ be you.” Buffy was growing concerned. Willow hadn’t been herself all morning and it was obvious this ‘Puppy’ thing was still messing with her head. Guess she couldn’t blame her, though, because she’d spent way too much time thinking about Angel’s brand new twin herself. The guy was just… off, somehow. And okay, being the not-so-pampered pet of a vamp dominatrix would probably have a negative effect on anybody’s personality, but still, this… Liam was giving her a wiggins. She made a decision. “But if you want to go over and talk to him, I’ll go with you, okay?”  
  
“Thanks.” Willow’s smile wasn’t one of her perkiest, but it made Buffy feel better all the same. Anyway, going to see Liam meant going to see Angel… not that that was the main reason Buffy was going or anything, but hey, she had a right to Angel-smoochies. Especially since that was all they could have now.  
  
“Do you think Liam ever lost his soul?” Buffy mused, not actually meaning to say it out loud.  
  
“How could he? From what you heard him say to Angel last night, it's not like you were around.”  
  
“Yeah, but maybe he lost his soul a long time ago or something.”  
  
Willow furrowed her brow in thought for a moment, considering Buffy’s questions. “Who would have done the curse again, though?” Not like her vamp-self would have been making with the soul-restoration spells, that was for sure. “If anybody would have even known about it. I mean, from what you’ve told me, Angel didn’t exactly have a whole lot of friends before you.”  
  
“Who knows what he was like there, though? Because even though this guy _looks_ like Angel, he’s not exactly the same. I’m not sure that you, me, and Xander are the only big differences between these two worlds.”  
  
You know, Buffy had a point there. After all, for things to have gone so wrong… Buffy was probably a different person there, too.   
  
Of course now her mind was off to the races. What other differences were there? What had happened to Jesse? What was Oz like? What about Willow herself? Were her parents gone as much? Did they know that she was a vampire? Oh God. Had she killed them?  
  
Even without thinking about Liam, there was so much about that other world to unsettle her mind. Still, Liam really was the most upsetting thing. She didn’t even want to think about the horrible things her double had done to him, especially since the burns she’d seen on his chest where his shirt gapped open gave her a pretty good idea of how bad it must have been for him.  
  
Her only consolation was, oddly enough, found in that same train of thought. Because, hey, if she wasn’t the same person as her skanky double, then it really wasn’t like _she_ would have or _could_ have hurt Liam, even if she became a vampire. That was a comforting thought. A very comforting thought, actually. “Liam seemed a lot less afraid of me by the time he and Angel left. That was of the good and it means you’re probably right – I bet we’re nothing like the us’es from his world.”  
  
“You’ll see, Will. Once Liam tells us about them, we’ll know for sure that the only things we have in common with those people are names and physical appearance.” The bell sounded and Willow was pulled to her feet by a grumbling Buffy. “C’mon. We’ve got real evil and badness to deal with right now. Calculus awaits.” And with that, the talk turned back to the mundane world of homework assignments and possible pop quizzes as the two girls made their way to class.  
  
  
  
Liam woke with a start. He’d been dreaming. That was unusual; he’d willed himself not to dream during his captivity. It was too painful to wake up from visions of freedom and find himself chained in that stone cell. Better blackness than that. But he’d been dreaming just now. He struggled to hold onto what the dream had been, but most of it slipped through the fingers of his conscious awareness. Willow had been in it – but which one? It hadn’t been a nightmare, so he was strangely inclined to think he’d been dreaming of the girl from this world. He wished he could recall something more, but the shock of realizing he’d been dreaming in the first place had driven the details right out of his head.  
  
Well, he was awake now, so what was he going to do about it? Maybe he’d take another shower. Yes, he’d taken one last night, but it had been so long and frankly the thought of enjoying one again was a powerful temptation. He gave in, stepping into the well-appointed and unexpectedly modern attached bathroom and shedding his borrowed clothes. Well, probably not borrowed so much as donated. He highly doubted that Angel would want them back. His hands caressed the knobs to turn on the water, enjoying the feel of them – metal over which he had mastery. It was a powerful sensation after years in chains behind locked bars.  
  
He stepped under the spray as steam filled the enclosed shower. His reaction was even more dramatic than it had been last night and his cock hardened. There was something about the way his body responded that was so different from the feeling of being controlled and dominated and forced to perform and it was more of a pleasure to him than even the opportunity to be as clean as he liked after so many long, dirty months.   
  
Reaching down, he took himself in hand for the first time since The Master had made him a slave. He closed his eyes, reveling in reclaiming ownership of this body - _his_ body. He stroked himself slowly, drawing out every sensation. When was the last time he’d truly enjoyed his sexuality? His eyes stayed closed and gradually a vision formed – it was Willow. This world’s Willow. Pushing aside the questions his mind’s choice raised, he grabbed hold of the vision, owning it, controlling it, just as he was doing with his body. As his pleasure built and he found true release for the first time in what felt like eternity, he lost himself in the lassitude afterward. There’d be time to think about what had gotten him there later. For now, he lazily sponged himself off and then turned off the water. Perhaps he should get dressed and see if Angel was about.  
  
  
  
Sometimes he felt like a bit of an anachronism, sitting by the fire, reading Proust, but Angel wasn’t about to give up one of his keenest pleasures simply because it was no longer fashionable. Still, he wasn’t so engrossed in his favorite book that his senses had ceased to function and he felt Liam enter the room even before he raised his head to confirm his perception. “Hey,” he greeted the other vampire, deliberately casual.   
  
His only answer was a nod. Okay, Angel was willing to concede that he wasn’t the chattiest demon to ever walk the night, but Liam made him seem downright garrulous. “I hope you were comfortable,” he tried again, hoping to initiate some sort of conversation. After all, he'd fully intended to try and establish a friendly relationship with this guy.  
  
Another nod. Angel was barely able to contain his annoyance, but then – at last – there came words from his lookalike houseguest. “I was. Thanks.” Well, he wasn’t exactly opening up, but at least it was something.   
  
“Good.”   
  
Liam watched his counterpart closely, his earlier intention to be blamelessly chummy altering as he noticed infinitesimal signs of awkwardness. Let’s exploit those a bit, shall we? Allowing instinct and not calculation to guide him, his next words were, “I was sort of surprised – I smelled Spike. Was my room his?”  
  
Angel started a bit and it was gratifying, but Liam was careful to keep his smug satisfaction from showing in his expression. “He was here when… Yeah, he was here for a short time.”  
  
Okay, what had Angel been about to say? There was a story there and Liam desperately wanted the details. He also longed to know just what Angel’s relationship had been with this world’s version of William. It would be a bad idea to ask, however, or to discuss the boy further in any way. Being patient and biding his time would serve him far better – and those were skills he’d mastered, weren’t they?  
  
Studying Liam’s blank, unvarying mien, Angel was unmoved by the lack of any display. He knew that there was a lot more to Liam’s question than innocent curiosity. It reminded him to be wary; he might well have brought the Trojan Horse through his gate. He could kick himself for letting the man see his response, that was for sure. There was no way he was going to tell Liam about Angelus, or about the fact that Spike had helped to send Angel to Hell.  
  
While he was always glad to see Buffy, he was positively ecstatic to sense her just before she walked into the house at this very moment. But she wasn’t alone.  
  
“Hi,” Willow caroled just a little too brightly as she walked in the door by Buffy’s side. Actually, she sounded like she’d been sucking helium and she felt herself redden in embarrassment. Liam was here – right here – and it made her feel worse for being so chipper. Was her vamp-self normally perky? Because she’d seemed pretty happy to Willow and maybe _her_ being cheerful would remind him of… Okay, she needed to calm down.   
  
Was Liam staring at her?   
  
What would Willow think, Liam wondered, if she knew just how he’d been indulging himself with visions of her just a few moments ago? That blush now tingeing her cheeks would surely be scarlet. He kept his expression carefully neutral, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Here, after all, was the pure and unimaginably wholesome counterpart to the hell-spawned bitch who had debased and degraded and raped him for many, many months. She fascinated him. That shouldn’t surprise him in the slightest, but it did. Perhaps because his fascination was something other than coldly intellectual. The sexual element _certainly_ caught him off-guard. Of course, he was newly-freed and even more newly transported to a strange alternate universe. Who knew how he’d feel in a few days?   
  
“Hey there,” Buffy said as she strode over to Angel. She debated internally about just how publicly affectionate she ought to be with Liam here, but something in her wanted this guy to know just how close she was to Angel, so she put her arms around him and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “I missed you today.” She hugged him tightly for good measure. Maybe she was laying on the PDA’s a bit thick, but Angel didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed really happy to see her. Guess she and Willow hadn’t interrupted a bonding session or anything.   
  
Angel returned Buffy’s affectionate gestures without a word, his eyes locked on Liam. He was a bit surprised, actually. He’d expected possibly some jealousy of his closeness to the Slayer who had led both of them to come to their respective versions of Sunnydale in the first place. Instead, Liam was focused on Willow. Was he still afraid of her? As laughable as that seemed to someone who was most familiar with the sweet and cheerful human girl, he supposed that the vampire version was a lot more intimidating. Still, Liam needed to learn the lay of the land here and learn it quickly. Angel owed Willow a debt for the return of his soul and he wasn’t going to let Liam bother her with his baggage.   
  
The plan had seemed sort of simple when Willow had thought of it, but now that she was here, she couldn’t figure out how to start a conversation with Liam. In fact, seeing him froze her in her tracks. Buffy would understand if she made an excuse and left right now, wouldn’t she? “Well, I figured I’d come here and say hi, but I should probably get home and keep working on hacking into…,” Buffy shot her a sharp look and Willow stopped herself short. “Um, what I mean is that I’ve got homework to do.” Okay, Buffy was probably right. Maybe she shouldn’t be spilling her guts in front of a newcomer even if he _was_ one of the good guys in another reality.  
  
“You’re a hacker?” Liam’s voice was full of wonder and Willow was sort of shocked. Angel didn’t have a computer and Willow was pretty sure he didn’t care about them at all. Just how different _was_ Liam?  
  
“Uh…no. I mean… That’s illegal and I…”  
  
Without thinking, Liam blurted out, “I love computers.” That was a personal detail and he was trying hard to restrict the number of those he revealed, but it was true. One of the things he’d missed most in that dungeon was his computer. He’d only discovered the world of the internet a short while before his enslavement, but he’d gotten hooked within five minutes of his first mouse click. It was an extraordinary new world of limitless possibilities. The Willow he knew? Her only use for technology had been creating the mechanization for killing and draining victims. This one, though…yes, this was one more difference between the two of them.  
  
Angel fought to contain his surprise at Liam’s revelation. Computers? That was a striking difference between the two of them. He glanced down at Buffy and it was obvious that she was thinking the same thing. “I don’t have one,” he admitted, though in a tone that he kept carefully free of apology.  
  
“I do,” Willow piped up. “I have my laptop with me.” Buffy glared at her friend again, though she wasn’t sure why she suddenly felt so hostile towards Liam. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already figured out that he wasn’t exactly like Angel. But then again, this was more than different, this was alien – like ‘possessed’ and ‘wiggins-inducing’ alien. Because, really…computers? That was just so completely unlike the Angel she knew. He didn’t even own a television.  
  
But then again, this might be a good thing. Willow talking computers with this guy was bound to make him realize that she was nothing like the leather-and-fangs version and then Willow could stop feeling so guilty. “He could come to the library sometime and you could show him some stuff,” Buffy offered.  
  
“I could show you some stuff now, if you want. I mean, we don’t have an internet connection, but I have this really cool graphics program if you’d like to see it.” Her voice trailed off as she finished. She felt so stupid and dorky. I mean, sure, Liam had said he loved computers, but maybe he was just being nice.  
  
“I’d like that.” He smiled when he said it and Willow felt an overwhelming sense of relief, even if it was kinda weird to see a smile on a face that looked just like Angel’s. He wasn’t so big on the happy facial expressions when he had a soul, though – hey! – he had smiled at her that one time he’d come to her room to ask for help finding out about Ford. He hadn’t even watched what she was doing on the computer then, she remembered; he’d been way too caught up in being all jealous over Buffy. That had been so sweet, though, and Willow had always enjoyed that memory. She’d always been the conductor on the ‘Buffy and Angel forever’ train. Her joy in their love was greatly diminished, though, by the knowledge of the restrictions on their relationship now. If she’d been a more powerful witch, maybe she could have done something about that happiness clause.  
  
“Is it okay if we go sit down in the study? I promise we won't disturb anything.”   
  
Willow’s question put Angel in an awkward position. He wasn’t sure if she should be alone with his double and yet… Liam had opened up to her more readily than he had to Angel and he could see a strategic value in her spending some time alone with him. But this was Willow, not some stranger (or Xander) for whom he had no personal concern. Still, he’d be close by and if anything happened, he could easily rescue her, so… “Sure.”  
  
The sound of Angel’s voice brought Willow back to the here and now and she answered, “Great,” before turning to Liam and saying, “C’mon.” Her laptop bag and backpack in hand, she led him to the study.  
  
Buffy watched them go, waiting until she was sure the distance was enough so that even vamp hearing wouldn’t pick up her words before she said, “So what do you think of this guy?”  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	5. Chapter Four

  
Feral (Chapter Four)  
  
  
  
“So, what do you think of this guy?” Buffy asked. “Because he gives me the wiggins.”  
  
Angel was actually grateful that Buffy spoke up first because her instincts and his were saying the same things. Still, he had to play devil’s advocate for a moment. “Maybe it’s just because he’s so…different from me.”  
  
Buffy immediately responded with her ‘are you serious?’ face. Yeah, Angel hadn’t convinced himself with his argument either. Still, he proceeded. “He’s only been here for a day. It’s not as if we really know much about him yet. I’ll keep an eye on him, though.”  
  
“Okay,” Buffy replied with a heavy sigh. “Anyway, it’s not like we can send him back.” Which was true. Willow had pulled out her ‘Resolve Face’…twice. Not even Giles could stand up against that. “I just hope he turns out to be more like you than he seems right now.”  
  
Okay, was that _jealousy_ she saw in Angel’s expression? She snorted. For a vampire, he was such a _guy_. “Please. He’ll never be you. I just meant that I hope he’s one of the good guys and not totally deranged by post-traumatic-vampire’s-pet-syndrome, that’s all.”  
  
Angel shrugged, trying for sang-froid a bit late. He hated it when his emotions were so easily read, even when the one doing the reading was Buffy. Still, he loved her enough that he could allow that transparency in a way he could never have accepted with anyone else.   
  
She was still talking. “Besides, he’s barely even looked at me.” A second later, her arms were around him. “You’re a lot better looking than him, you know. Especially when you’re jealous.” He was about to object when she pulled his head down for a kiss. “Mmm…much better.” Never one to argue with a lady, Angel let Buffy carry the day. Besides, kissing her was a much better way to pass the time.  
  
  
  
If Willow had thought facing Liam was difficult before, it was even worse now that they were alone. What the heck was she supposed to…? “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. The red flush of embarrassment was burning patches from her cheeks down her neck to her chest. She had meant to ease into this conversation. There went that idea. And if she’d hoped Liam was going to make this easy for her… Well, the way he was just staring at her silently meant that was pretty much not gonna happen either. Hey, this was the Hellmouth, right? Any second now a hole might appear in the floor underneath her and swallow her up. A girl could hope, couldn’t she?   
  
But no pit of quicksand emerged from beneath the floorboards and so Willow was stuck trying to babble her way into some sort of intelligible apology. “I mean, I know I’m not her, but… I just want you to know that I’m really sorry for everything she did to you. Not that I know what it is, but I can kind of guess, and…” Her voice trailed off.  
  
He just kept staring.   
  
More and more, Liam found it impossible to believe that a girl so good and naive could share the same face and name as the evil creature who had held him as her slave such a short time ago. Willow’s apology, coming as it did in a voice so like the one that had called him Puppy and demanded he service her… It was an extraordinary thing. And the blush that suffused her skin? It took him back to this morning’s session of self-gratification in the shower - and to the fantasies of…  
  
He halted his mind in its tracks. “It wasn’t you.” That was true enough.   
  
“I know. It’s just…”  
  
“It wasn’t you,” he repeated, gratified by the soft smile with which he was rewarded.   
  
If he were completely honest with himself, he’d have to admit that his reasons for being so conciliatory toward her weren’t entirely pure. It was obvious that she was the only one – as far as he could see – who didn’t view him with distrust and even dislike. It was also obvious that despite her unassuming demeanour she had a certain amount of power within the group surrounding the Slayer, enough at least to keep him from being sent back to certain, permanent death. How ironic that, just as before, his fate rested in the hands of this girl. Of course here, he was beginning to see, he had much more control. “So how long have you been into computers?”  
  
  
  
The fire was crackling in the fireplace as Angel and Buffy sat on the couch, holding each other. Buffy was, for the millionth time, cursing the gypsies for the cruelty of the curse they’d placed on Angel. She was a normal, hormonal girl and it hurt to be close to Angel and not be able to be…well…a whole lot closer. Not that she’d do anything right here, right now, what with Willow and Liam in a nearby room and liable to pop back in any minute. “Who’d have thought there’d be a version of you who’s a computer geek?” she mused.  
  
Angel chuckled softly. “Yeah, that’s not something I’ve ever really considered.” Although, now that his double had expressed such an interest, Angel had to admit that he felt more of an anachronism than ever. He’d always seen his own disinclination to learn about technology as being a part of his vampiric detachment from the changes of time, but considering his fondness for Barry Manilow, he realized that explanation was pretty weak. Maybe Liam was onto something. Willow seemed to get a lot done with those things.   
  
Great. Nothing like feeling inferior to some other version of yourself.  
  
“Me neither,” Buffy said. “Willow keeps trying to get me onto the information super highway and I get that it’s the future and all but I’m still killing monsters with pointy sticks. Not exactly a microchip kind of girl here.” She smiled and snuggled closer to Angel. “Besides, there are much better ways to send messages than email.”  
  
“Like?”  
  
Buffy grinned. “Like this.” She kissed him again, moaning into his mouth as their embrace grew quickly passionate. If this was all there could be, maybe it could be enough.  
  
  
  
Liam stared at the computer screen, watching as Willow, with a few clicks of the mouse, transformed a photograph. “This is amazing.”  
  
She afforded him a toothy grin. “Isn’t it? Pretty soon darkrooms will be totally obsolete.” Her hands left the keyboard as she began gesturing dramatically and her voice grew more excited. “And hey, models won’t be necessary either. I mean, why would you even need to pay all that money to someone like Cindy Crawford? You could just create composites from different features and body parts and…” She blushed and looked away. “Sorry. I get kind of overenthusiastic.”  
  
Her energy was… It was… it was a sign that she trusted him, wasn’t it? His demonic instincts were coming back to the fore, as was his desire to gain control of his environment. Now would be the perfect time to ask questions. “I’ve never seen that much in models,” he offered with a gentle smile. “Pretty faces without anything behind them? What’s the point?” He paused. “Is it okay if I ask you something?” A lawyer he’d once known had told him that the best questions with which to lead were the ones to which you already knew the answers.   
  
She nodded. He’d expected that. Score one for the lawyers.  
  
“How did I get here?”  
  
“Angel didn’t tell you?” Willow was surprised. She knew Angel wasn’t all that chatty or anything, but…  
  
“No.” He looked sort of sad and Willow got that because, hey, he probably hadn’t had anyone to talk to for a really long time, and even taciturn guys needed friends and occasional conversation. Dating Oz had taught her that much.  
  
“Well, it’s sort of complicated and there’s stuff you probably wouldn’t care about, but the short version is that there was this girl, Anya, only she’s not really a girl – she’s a Vengeance Demon – and she sort of tricked me into doing this spell and…”  
  
Liam was trying to keep up with Willow’s breathless narrative when he caught the words ‘doing a spell.’ He interrupted her. “You’re a witch?” He wasn’t at all sure how he felt about that. Was she more dangerous than he’d thought?  
  
“Yeah…well, sort of. I mean, I’m learning to be, but so far I’m pretty much at the floating pencils stage. Well, except I did restore Angel’s soul.”  
  
What? He was too taken aback by that last revelation to school his mien into impassivity and he knew he looked the shock he felt, especially when he saw the look of dismay on Willow’s face.  
  
“Oops! That was something I probably shouldn’t have told you. At least not yet. But maybe… I mean it is something you sort of need to know. At least I think so. I…” Willow could feel her words tangling around her tongue as she tripped over them. Oh God. “Okay. Here’s the thing. I don’t know if the curse is the same here as it is in your world, but Angel’s curse has this happiness clause thing. Which means that if he ever knows a moment of true happiness, he kind of loses his soul. Well, actually, not so much with the kind of. He lost it about a year ago and went on sort of a rampage until I was able to re-curse him.”  
  
In a twenty-four hour period full of shocks and surprises, this latest revelation instantly shot to the top of the list. “He lost his soul? How?” It was more than an academic question. How happy was true happiness? Where did the danger lie?  
  
The scarlet tone of Willow’s skin gave him a hint, but he was able to keep his expression neutral now. He had to admit that he enjoyed her blush…and having the upper hand. Yes, that last was something to which he could easily become addicted.  
  
How was she going to handle this? How could she explain how Angel lost his soul without violating Buffy’s privacy big time? When was she ever going to be able to keep her mouth shut? “Umm… Angel was with Buffy and…well…they’re really in love and… It just made him really happy, you know?” If her face got any hotter, she was pretty sure it would burst into flames.  
  
Thank God. He was nodding like he got it which meant she didn’t have to explain anymore.   
  
It suddenly occurred to her that they’d actually been talking about something else before going off on this tangent. What had it been? Her brow furrowed almost painfully as she tried to remember.  
  
Oh! They’d been talking about the spell that had started this whole weird chain of events. “I guess I should finish telling you about Anya and everything, huh?”  
  
He chuckled. It was genuine, though what he was laughing at was very different from what he knew she thought he found amusing. It had just hit him – his counterpart had lost his soul…fucking a Slayer. Pathetic didn’t even begin to cover the idea of perfect happiness being getting your rocks off inside a girl born to kill you. What a masochistic pussy Angel was. He felt cleaner than ever knowing that he’d left the name they once shared to him and had his own now. Assuming a more serious expression, he nodded and she continued.  
  
“I told you Anya was a Vengeance Demon, right?” Willow waited and he nodded. “Okay, so she tricked me into helping her do this spell by saying she needed to find her necklace, which was true, except she didn’t tell me her necklace was…” All right, Tangent Girl. A little brevity would be good here. “Not important. But anyway, the spell brought the vampire version of me here from your dimension. Then when we caught her and did the spell to send her back… Well, I don’t know. Maybe Anya deliberately screwed it up or something, because she went back, but you appeared – which isn’t so bad since – hey! – you’re not all dusty now and you’re not Puppy anymore and… Oh god, I’m so sorry I brought that up.” She really wasn’t any good at brevity or concise narrative, was she? Also, it was nice to see that she was picking up the slack in the blunt and tactless department now that Cordelia wasn’t hanging around with them as much. “It really is good that you’re here instead of there.”  
  
Luckily, he didn’t seem upset, and she felt emboldened enough to ask a question of her own. “Didn’t you talk about any of this stuff with Angel?”  
  
Once again, he saw where telling the truth strategically could evoke some sympathy from his companion. “He didn’t seem too interested in talking last night. Just gave me some blood and some clothes and told me where I could shower and sleep.” He neglected, of course, to mention that he hadn’t actually tried to converse with his counterpart either.   
  
“Oh.” Willow appeared discomfited for a moment before offering an explanation. “He probably figured you needed time to get oriented and everything before hitting you with all the details.”   
  
Admittedly, he expected her to say as much. Angel had been in her circle far longer. Still, he was irked and he decided to hit her with an uncomfortable question. “What did you think? Of _her_ , I mean.” She knew who he meant; he could tell right away. The blush returned, but this time she smelt sharply of shame, not girlish modesty or reticence.   
  
“She was horrible,” Willow replied in a low voice, looking at the ground, the pain of all her double’s misdeeds weighing her down again. “I still can’t believe that she’s… that maybe I could be…”  
  
“You’re not her.”   
  
She heard the words, he’d said them before, but they weren’t convincing this time, nor was her attempt to recapture this morning's comforting thoughts about being totally unlike her vampire twin. It wasn’t like Liam really knew her or like she really knew her double. What if she _could_ be like that? What if deep down inside of her there was this evil just waiting to be unleashed? But it wouldn’t be fair to burden Liam with her fears – he’d been through enough thanks to her vampire twin – so she dug up her best fake smile before making a show of looking at her watch and saying, “Oh gosh! It’s late. I’m supposed to meet Oz.”  
  
“Oz?” He affected an air of confusion, but he knew perfectly well who Oz was. He was that self-righteous White Hat boy, the one who was a werewolf here, the one whose scent clung to her like the faintest trace of perfume.  
  
“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend.” Her smile changed, though the sadness in her eyes remained. Obviously she had some affection for the furry creature, but how she could call him her boyfriend when she was obviously not so enamoured of him that she’d offer him her favours was puzzling. In the Sunnydale from which he came, life was precious and short, relationships burned hot, and virgins of her age were almost nonexistent. He'd already gathered that this world wasn't as terrible as his, but there was a Hellmouth here – he could feel its energy – and there were demons, so how much different could this world possibly be?  
  
He smiled back, though his grin was a false and sour thing, tasting of acrid bitterness against his teeth. “I’ll walk you to the door.”  
  
  
  
Buffy heard the sound of approaching footsteps at the same time Angel did and they quickly disentangled, doing their best to not look like they’d been making out before they had company.   
  
“Hey,” she called out cheerily as Willow and Liam entered the room. Willow looked subdued and Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “So, how’d the computer tutorial go?”  
  
“Fine,” Willow replied cheerfully, but it was the fake cheer that Buffy knew too well from the days after that awful time when Spike had kidnapped Willow and Xander and… Yeah, Liam was on her shit list now. He was supposed to make her best friend feel _better_. “But I sort of promised Oz I’d meet him after rehearsal, so…” She was doing that ‘looking at her watch’ thing which meant ‘get me out of here’ and Buffy could hear the call of Mr. Pointy. After all, she’d only promised not to send Liam back to get dusted in his own world; she’d never promised not to stake him herself.   
  
“I’ll walk you,” Buffy insisted, glancing meaningfully at Angel as she grabbed her bookbag. She planted a quick kiss on Angel’s cheek. “I’ll be back after patrol,” she said before shooting a quick glare at Liam. He’d better enjoy his unlife while he had it because depending on what she heard on the walk to Willow’s house…  
  
She grabbed Willow’s hand and the two girls headed out the door. It was Twenty Questions time.  
  
Only with a lot more questions.  
  
Angel watched as their company departed. He could speak ‘Buffy’ even when it was nonverbal and he also hadn’t missed the way Willow’s smile hadn’t reached her eyes. While he understood that Liam had been abused by a vampire that looked like his friend, he wasn’t going to tolerate him taking out that abuse on the girl who’d given him back his soul.  
  
He could have tried to be nice about the whole thing, ease into the subject, try to understand Liam’s point of view, but frankly, why bother? It wasn’t like conversation of any kind was happening between them anyway. So he cut straight to the chase. “Leave Willow alone.”  
  
Coming from a man reeking of Slayer pheromones, the burst of proprietary concern might have made Liam laugh, or even shocked him, but after what Willow had told him about restoring Angel’s soul, he could see where his double’s concern lay. Still, it wasn’t something he was going to tolerate. He’d had enough of being dominated and ordered about. “She’s my friend,” he replied. Gratifyingly, this time he wasn’t the one with a look of shock on his face.   
  
Control was addictive and he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to throw Angel even more off his game. “She told me…about what she did for you. I understand why you feel protective of her. But she has nothing to fear from me.”  
  
The look on Angel’s face now? It was priceless. Sadly, though, it didn’t last.  
  
Angel quickly got himself under control. He should have expected this. Willow being Willow, of course she’d want to warn Liam about the danger to his soul. After everything she’d seen, she was still the most open-hearted and trusting creature he’d ever known. Still, he _had_ been taken by surprise and it bothered him. Yes, part of it was that his ego didn’t allow him to cede even the slightest degree of dominance happily, but there was more than that. He knew it was almost surely an overreaction to the very normal guardedness of a traumatized alien creature, but he didn’t trust Liam.   
  
But letting the man know that? That would be a bad tactical move, one which would actually leave him in an inferior position, so, with a false display of relief, he nodded. “All right. As long as you understand the way things are here.”  
  
Liam nodded, but Angel didn’t relax for an instant. Sure, he was probably being melodramatic. Liam was most likely not a threat. But…  
  
Maybe they should have just staked Willow’s vampire doppelganger and beheaded Anyanka.  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	6. Chapter Five

Feral (Chapter Five)  
  
  
  
They had barely ascended the crumbling steps that led to Angel’s front yard when Buffy grew impatient to find out what had happened. “Okay, Will, spill it.”   
  
“What?” And Buffy might have believed Willow had no clue what she was asking about if she didn’t sound like Minnie Mouse on helium.  
  
“You know. Why the White Rabbit routine when you don’t have a date with Oz tonight?”  
  
Willow chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. She’d pretty much expected to get the third degree, and there were things she needed to tell Buffy, that was for sure, but she didn’t know how to explain the ‘why she made up an excuse to leave’ part. So, of course, she ended up blurting out something she’d intended to say delicately. “I told Liam about how Angel lost his soul.”  
  
Buffy’s eyes shot wide and Willow could almost feel her foot wedging itself between her back molars. No, there was no career in the diplomatic corps in her future – not that she’d actually wanted one, but still… “I’m sorry. I didn’t go into detail or anything. It’s just that I kinda thought he might need to know that his soul might not be all that permanent, you know?”  
  
Yes, Buffy knew; she also knew she should have expected this, Willow being Willow, but it still made her feel sort of ooky: Liam now having the 4-1-1 on what amounted to her entire sex life. This was not of the pleasant. “Thanks,” she said, because, really, what else was she going to say? Gosh I hope he’s not picturing just what it would take to get a vamp so happy his soul goes poof? Because that’s where her brain was right now and it wasn’t a comfy place.  
  
Apparently, though, her thoughts showed on her face. “I didn’t give him any details, Buff. I promise. I didn’t even actually tell him you guys had sex.” That was so not reassuring since she knew Willow well enough to know that blushing and stammering had almost certainly been involved and that would have pretty much told the whole story, complete with the soundtrack from a cheesy porno flick.  
  
But Willow was her best friend and it wasn’t like she’d meant any harm, so Buffy put her hand on her shoulder and said, “I know. It’s okay.” It also occurred to her that this conversation had been a tangent and her question hadn’t been answered at all. What the heck had Liam said…or done? Her eyes narrowed as she plotted out the safest way to stake him without Willow’s knowledge. She stopped walking and asked again, “What happened in there?”  
  
Oh great. Her distraction strategy hadn’t worked. Willow wilted under the onslaught of Buffy’s stare. “Nothing happened, I swear. It’s just… I feel guilty, okay? I mean, I know you guys say that she’s not me, and Liam says it too, but what if she could be? What if somewhere inside me, there’s this dark, evil thing? What if I’m not as good as you think, as I think, as Oz thinks? What if what happened with Xander was just the tip of the iceberg and I could… I don’t know… try to destroy the world or something?” She could tell Buffy was about to laugh and that made it all worse. “I’m serious, Buffy. It’s scary to think… I mean, I can see the fear in Liam’s eyes… all the stuff he went through. That was someone who looked just like _me_ and I’m not so sure she was completely different in every other way. I want to be, but I can’t…” With that, she burst into tears.  
  
  
  
Liam headed for the kitchen. He was hungry and he didn’t think Angel would mind him making his own meals. As he got a bag of blood out of the refrigerator, he noticed that it was pig, not human. Funny – and somewhat distressing – that he hadn’t noticed that last night, but he’d been hungry and distracted and it didn’t mean that he was off his game.   
  
Speaking of the game… As much pleasure as it was giving him to get the upper hand with Angel, he wasn’t sure it was serving him well in the long run. After all, sometimes winning the war meant losing a battle or two. He needed to dial back the dominance a bit, dredge up some semblance of _bonhomie_ from memories of his friendlier years. Putting the blood in a mug he found by the sink, he set it in the microwave and closed the door. He figured it would take the same time to heat as the human blood he’d been used to getting from a demon bar called Willie’s in the Sunnydale he knew, so he typed out sixty seconds on the keypad and hit the start button.   
  
Wouldn’t you know? Now was the time to try his new ‘friendly’ persona out because Angel had just entered the kitchen. “I hope it’s all right that I’m taking some of your blood,” he said deferentially.   
  
Angel was surprised. Back in the parlour, Liam had seemed shifty, but now his expression was entirely guileless. Had they had some sort of breakthrough? Had Liam’s behavior before been merely that of a once-caged animal suspicious of the motives of anyone who unlocked his prison? Angel wanted to believe that. Liam did have a soul, so he had to be one of the good guys, right? “It’s fine,” he said with guarded affability. “I had the same idea.” Suiting the action to the tune, he got a bag of his own out of the fridge, flashing back to the days of iceboxes as he did so. Did his counterpart marvel as he did at how very much the world kept changing? He opened the cupboard next to the refrigerator. “The mugs are up here,” he stated mildly as he noticed Liam taking the mug he’d just washed out of the microwave.   
  
“Thanks.” Liam’s voice was as mild as his current expression as he stepped away from the microwave, allowing Angel access.  
  
He took that as a sign that maybe now was a good time to try and have a conversation. Deciding not to ask any potentially painful questions yet, and remembering that Liam had just described Willow as his friend, he opened with, “How did the computer tutorial go?”  
  
“It was great.” Liam allowed himself to smile. “It’s amazing how far graphics programs have come in such a short time. The things you can do with photo manipulation… Willow thinks models will be obsolete soon.” It really had been enjoyable. He was looking forward to getting the chance to go online at the library. Were there the same websites here that he’d frequented before?  
  
It looked as if he was doing the right things, because Angel was relaxing. Good. Getting along with his host was his current objective. He opted to chance asking a personal question. It might provoke Angel initially, but in the end Liam saw that he could actually benefit from it. “So… You and Buffy?” He was right, Angel quickly grew wary.  
  
“Yeah. She’s…”  
  
“Your girlfriend. I get it.” Liam smiled again, deliberately casual. “How did that happen?”  
  
Angel said nothing for a moment, assessing the situation. Yeah, he was suspicious again. “I fell in love with her the minute I saw her,” he said, in a tone that was far more territorial demon than lovesick swain – and intentionally so. Liam seemed to pick up on that immediately, but still, his response surprised Angel.  
  
“Really? I… That’s not how I felt at all.” He held up his hand as if he was worried he’d offended Angel. “Not that she’s not pretty and all, but… No, she’s not my type.” There was complete sincerity there and Angel felt a sense of relief. It wasn't that he'd been worried, but…  
  
Okay, Buffy hadn’t been entirely off-track with her assessment earlier. “Guess there really are some differences between us, huh?”  
  
“You mean besides computers?” Liam’s chuckle as he spoke was disarming and Angel responded in kind.  
  
“Yeah. How’d you get into that anyway?” Angel was genuinely curious, he realized.  
  
“Saved a guy’s life right after I hit town. He showed me a few things as a thank you.” Liam couldn’t keep the sadness out of his voice. Ted Buchanan had been a friend, one of the few he’d ever had. He wondered what had happened to him; if he’d managed to stay alive without Liam there to protect him. Sure, his senses had told him that Ted might not be exactly human, but the man hadn’t been a vampire either and that made him prey where they came from.  
  
Obviously this was another instance where their biographies didn’t match because Angel’s face was blank. “I never saved anyone who was into computers… well, except for Willow.”  
  
Saved Willow? Well, while Liam itched to know the details, he knew better than to evince too much curiosity about her, so he didn’t ask Angel to elaborate. “It looks like not much was the same for us in Sunnydale.”  
  
“It seems that way,” Angel replied.  
  
Liam assessed things again and decided that further conversation would be too much, too soon. Best to err on the side of believability. “I could use some rest. I’m still not one hundred percent. If it’s okay…”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
With that, Liam left the room and headed upstairs. The conversation had gone pretty well, he thought.  
  
  
  
Willow’s tears had been a shock to Buffy. She thought Willow had shaken off the 'ick' factor as easily as she had. Okay, sure, she had also been kind of upset at the idea that the other her hadn’t exactly done her duty, but Buffy knew – _knew_ – that she was nothing like that girl. She knew who she was. It was painful to think that Willow _didn’t_. For the first time, she realized that her own defining sense of self might not be ‘normal.’ That other people, terrific people like Willow, might not have it at all.  
  
Whoa. That was not a happy thought. Because even though there had been times when she’d wanted to lose herself – _tried_ to lose herself, in fact – she realized now that it was a really good thing to be so sure of who you were. Was it a Slayer thing? Was that it? Was it one of those special toy surprises that came in the cereal box of her sacred duty? Because it didn’t seem fair somehow if that were true. It shouldn’t be a super power to look in the mirror and know exactly who it was you were looking at.  
  
Even though Willow had stopped crying and they were halfway to her house, Buffy could tell that she didn’t feel better. Oh, she was doing a pretty good job of pretending, but it wasn’t enough to fool a best friend. That’s what Buffy was… and she was darn sure going to try to prove it. “You know you can talk to me, right? You don’t have to say you’re okay if you’re not.”  
  
Guilt time. Willow had been so sure she had tucked her tears safely away. It’s not like she wanted to keep bugging Buffy with her stupid existential crisis. “I’m okay. Really. I am.”  
  
“Will, this is me you’re talking to, and I know the difference between you saying you’re okay and you actually _being_ okay.”   
  
There was no getting out of this, was there? “It’s just… I’ve already told you everything. It’s not like there’s anything else to talk about. It would just be me repeating stuff over and over and, let’s face it, I kinda do that enough already.”  
  
“I don’t mind,” Buffy said, taking Willow’s hands as they halted on their journey once again.  
  
But of course, in Sunnydale, a nighttime walk was never peaceful enough for an uninterrupted talk with your best friend.  
  
“Vampire,” Buffy cried out as she pushed Willow behind her. “Scratch that – vam _pires_ , plural.” Out came Mr. Pointy, and the battle began.  
  
  
  
Upstairs in what was, for now, his room, Liam began nosing about a bit. The closet was his first stop and it yielded something which confused him – why was there a wheelchair in there? He leaned down and was more puzzled than before when he realized it smelled like Spike. Spike used a wheelchair? Why?   
  
He began trying to piece together the few things he’d learned: Spike had been here – briefly, according to Angel. Angel had also lost his soul at some point, seemingly recently. Were the two things connected in any way? And again… Why the wheelchair?  
  
It had been so long since he’d allowed his mind to question, to wonder, to seek out the pieces of puzzles and attempt to fit them into their proper places. Being trapped in that cage, he had finally learned that it wasn't safe to set his thoughts free, to ask questions, even inside himself. He’d forgotten how maddening it was when the answers were just out of reach.  
  
Drusilla… The presence of her scent was puzzling to him. Obviously she still existed here – or had in recent times – a vast difference from his world. How had she avoided the wrath of the Gypsies, the wrath which had claimed the unlife of the Drusilla _he'd_ sired? Spike’s fury at her final death had nearly sent Liam to the dust along with her. How long had it been since he’d seen the boy who’d loved Drusilla as he never could?  
  
What of Darla? Was she, too, still alive here? Oh how he hoped… It wouldn’t be the same though, and it wouldn’t alleviate his guilt. Never was the sight of Darla’s body crumbling to dust before his eyes far from his memory. Without a soul, out of nothing but… More guilt still because, after all, he had used her, hadn’t he? Used the fact that, even after so many years apart, even after he’d renounced her and the evil they’d done together, she’d still loved him, been willing to betray her own sire for him. She’d died for him – died _because_ of him – and he hoped that somehow her sacrifice had won her soul its freedom from eternal torment. That would be something – wouldn’t it? – to compensate for the futility of it all.  
  
He wished he could have loved her.  
  
His mind returned to his short conversation with Angel, the vehemence and certainty with which the other man had proclaimed his love for Buffy. Now that was one regret he _didn’t_ have. A vampire in love with a Slayer? He shook his head ruefully and went back to his snooping. With any luck he’d find a book in here or something. Reading… He’d missed that too.  
  
  
  
Buffy was still brushing dust off her clothes and complaining about all the dry cleaning the Council didn’t pay for. The vampire attack had pretty much ended the heavy conversation for the night and Willow wasn’t sure if she was glad or sorry. Probably glad. Like she’d said, it was pointless anyway – unless she really wanted to know how many ways she could find to say that she was scared of herself.  
  
They walked briskly towards her sure-to-be-empty house. Sheila and Ira were still in… was it Toronto? It had to be Toronto because next month was Tel Aviv and after that they were supposed to be taking a vacation. Only her parents would see no irony in traveling all year and then doing more traveling as a rest from all their traveling. They also saw no irony in being child psychologists who didn’t know their own daughter. Must be nice to be them – no guilt, no worries…  
  
Now here they were at her house. Dark, as usual.  
  
Buffy stopped talking as they came up to Willow’s place. No lights. It seemed sadder than ever that no one was home and she winced as she realized she’d just complained about how much grief her Mom gave her about the laundry associated with slaying. The last time Willow’s Mom had paid any attention to her was when she’d tried to burn Willow at the stake. Heck, even the dinner Oz had been supposed to attend had been forgotten and the Rosenbergs had left town for who-knows-where instead. What would it be like? Not having someone at home who worried about her when she was out late and who knew who all of her friends were? Not only knew _who_ they were, but knew _them_? “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay? ‘Cause you can spend the night at my house if you want.” God she hoped that didn’t sound like pity.  
  
“Nah. I’m fine. Besides, I need to keep working on getting into the Mayor's files.” Willow smiled, as close to sincerely as she could manage. It was sweet of her to offer, but… “Anyway, didn’t you say you wanted to go to The Bronze tonight?”  
  
“I wanted to go with _you_ ,” Buffy wheedled, “and I’m perfectly okay with doing a Ben-and-Jerry’s-and-Indian-TV-night instead. C’mon… It’ll be fun.”  
  
Willow was tempted, but… No, she’d just end up bringing Buffy down. Besides, she’d just thought of something she could do for Liam and, as cheer-up-y as Indian TV could be, giving something to Liam would probably do more to allay her lingering feelings of guilt over what her evil vampire self had done to him. “Rain check?” she asked, actually smiling this time.  
  
Willow’s smile looked a lot more of the genuine this time. Buffy wondered… but maybe she finally got it – that she had friends who knew and loved her and that she was nothing at all like the evil dominatrix from the bad place. At any rate, it was good to see a real smile on Willow’s face and no way was she going to question or complain about it. “Sure thing.” With a hug, she said goodbye to her best friend and, after waiting to make sure she made it inside and shut the door, Buffy turned and started to head back to her own house...but then she had a change of heart. She had pretty much blown off patrol tonight, but hey – she’d slain two vamps. For sure she deserved some Bronze time.  
  
  
  
Willow bounced through the door of her room and headed straight for her closet. There it was – the old laptop she’d meant to donate but had somehow ended up keeping. The hard drive was wiped absolutely clean, so it was totally safe and everything. All right, it wasn’t brand new and state of the art, but she could put a few cool programs on it and it would be great for Liam… Well, if she could get Buffy to talk Angel into setting up internet service at the mansion it would be.  
  
Setting the laptop on her desk, she went to work. This would have to make up for some of what her evil twin had done. Right?  
  
Later on, she’d call Oz. He might have some ideas for the computer too. And hey! Since he hadn’t been a vampire in the other Sunnydale, maybe he and Liam could even be friends.  
  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	7. Chapter Six

Feral (Chapter Six)  
  
  
  
Walking down the hall, holding Oz’s hand, Willow felt sort-of-almost-maybe-close-enough-to-at-l

east-pretend-she-was-normal again. He always seemed to ground her. “Thanks for the advice last night. I think Liam might really like that music program.”

“No problem.” His voice was its customary smooth monotone, but Willow spoke Oz and she could sense there was something underneath.

“What’s wrong?” He shrugged but she wasn’t letting him off that easy. “Really. What’s wrong?”

Oz pulled her into a corner behind the last row of lockers. “What happened to him. It’s not your fault.” It wasn’t the first time he’d said it and Willow felt guilty. She hated that he was worried about her.

“I know. I’m okay. Honest.” The last word was punctuated by a bright smile and a squeeze of Oz’s hand, but he just shook his head and then looked straight into her eyes.

“You’re not.”

She wanted to insist, but he was Oz and she couldn’t keep lying to him. “Okay, maybe not right now. But I will be. I promise.”

Oz didn’t get the chance to answer.

“Hey there, you two. What’s with the hiding in dark corners?” Xander. Willow turned and saw him waggling his eyebrows at them to punctuate his question. Wow, what a thoughtful friend he was. Because, yeah, sleazy double entendres were so what she needed right now.

Luckily, Willow didn’t have long to be disgusted because Buffy arrived immediately on Xander’s heels. “What’s up?” Her smile was bright and cheerful and Willow was glad. Somebody should be unburdened by self-doubt.

Those shadows Buffy had been seeing in Willow’s eyes since this whole mess with Puppy started were still there and she wondered if they were ever going to be gone. Sadly, she didn’t think dusting Liam would help and she realized that being the Slayer didn’t seem to be enough to solve their most pressing vampire problems. She was pretty sure that even that Slayer Handbook Giles had never shown her didn’t cover anything that couldn’t be fixed by the application of a sharp stake to the chest. Speaking of which… “We should probably go tell Giles what we’ve learned about Liam.”

Xander, naturally, looked completely confused. “We’ve learned things? Where was I when this was going on?” He frowned and Buffy fought back a giggle at his melodrama. “There better not be a quiz on this.”

She patted his arm. “It’s okay. You can get the Cliff’s Notes along with Giles.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Oz agreed. Willow gave a pretty emphatic head nod, so, with everyone on board the ‘let’s not leave Giles out of the loop any longer’ train, Buffy led the way to the library.

 

 

_”Mmmm….” Buffy’s moan was like music and her skin tasted like sunshine. Angel’s mouth caressed her shoulder, close to the tempting column of her neck. “I love you,” she said softly as his hands pushed up her tank top, the front hook of her bra undoing easily. His fingers found her breasts and…_

Angel awoke with a start: hard, aching, and disoriented. It took him a moment to realize he was alone in his bed. No warm, willing Buffy beside him. It took an even longer moment to decide that was a good thing, remembering at last just what horror would be unleashed if his dream came true.

Not for the first time, a part of him railed at the curse’s terrible clause. Okay, he understood the need for him to suffer and atone, but… Hadn’t centuries in Hell meant anything? And did Buffy deserve to pay as well? She loved him as much as he loved her – needed him the way he needed her.

There were no answers to his questions and he never expected to find them. With a sigh, he took himself in hand. There was no chance that solitary relief would bring him happiness, perfect or otherwise.

Stroking himself, he wondered what it had been like for Liam – being the sexual property of Willow’s counterpart, and perhaps the Master as well. What about Xander? He’d been Willow’s consort. Had he been allowed to use Liam as well? Had Liam yearned for the joy of what Angel had known? Or had the inherent sexuality of his vampiric nature been raped out of him by his captors?

Back to the matter at hand. Angel closed his eyes and focused on his body. Moments later, he found release. That meant it was time for a shower, didn’t it? With a sigh, he got out of bed. It was a long while till sundown.

 

 

“Computers? Really? How extraordinary.” Giles stood, leaning against the counter, obviously not having expected what he’d just heard.

“He knows a lot for a newbie, especially a newbie who hasn’t had the chance to spend much time online in the last two years.”

“Do we know of any other differences between him and Angel?”

Buffy chimed in with something that took Willow by complete surprise. “He’s totally not into me. I mean, he barely looks at me. Not sure if that’s just him being pissed at the other me for bailing on her duty or if he was never interested in her - me? her? - at all, though.”

“Yes, well, it does lower the potential for disaster if he doesn’t share Angel’s feelings for you, I must say.”

Giles’s words should have been comforting, holding as they did the implication that he had resigned himself to the idea of Liam remaining in _this_ Sunnydale, but Willow was distracted by what Buffy had said earlier. She had to admit that she hadn’t even thought about the whole ‘Buffy’ thing when it came to Liam, but now that the subject had come up, the idea that any version of Angel wouldn’t be head over heels in love with Buffy was… _weird_. Still, getting back to what Giles had just said, she had to agree that it was a pretty good thing, seeing as how Liam was living with Angel and all, that he wasn’t making googly eyes at her.

“So Liam doesn’t have the hots for Buffy, thereby sparing us the whole ‘potential soul loss’ drama? Why couldn’t he have been our Angel all along?”

“Why couldn’t who have been what? And who is Liam?”

“Cordelia. How nice of you to join us.” Xander’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but Willow could tell that he was hurt by the way Cordelia’s eyes swept the library looking for Wesley.

Buffy rolled her eyes. This was inconvenient, though she was pretty sure that she should have realized that Cordelia – among others – was going to have to be told sooner or later.

Giles apparently was going to take on the task. “Yes, well, it’s rather a long story, but to make it short, there was a slight problem with Willow’s doppelganger. You see…”

“We sent Vampire Willow back to her world and thanks to some sort of wacky exchange program, we ended up with their version of Angel in her place.” Unlike Giles, Xander actually _could_ make a long story short. Buffy was impressed… and relieved. Nice to get this over with.

“So there are _two_ Angel’s now? But who’s Liam?”

“Angel Number Two,” Xander answered again. “One guy named Angel is more than enough.”

“And this one isn’t trailing after Buffy like some fanged puppy?” Oh great – the look on Cordelia’s face told Buffy that the girl was back to lusting after her boyfriend…or at least someone who looked like him. Not only that, but her unfortunate choice of words had pretty obviously upset Willow. She shot Xander a death glare that meant ‘keep your mouth shut or else.’

“Nope, Cordelia. But he has a curse. Just like Angel.”

Xander chimed in again. “But feel free to drool over him the same way you do over Wesley. Because frankly? The danger of you making him perfectly happy is pretty much nil.”

It was obvious Cordelia was going to say something brutal and cutting, but at that precise moment, Wesley made his entrance and her demeanour changed completely. Speaking of drooling. Oh well, at least Xander wasn’t going to have to see it for much longer, because the bell rang a second later.

“C’mon. Class awaits.” Buffy dragged Xander by the arm before turning back and raising an eyebrow at Giles.

“Yes, do go learn something,” he said. “I’ll take care of…” His voice trailed off, but Buffy knew he was going to do the honours with Wesley. So she and Xander headed for history while Willow and Oz made their way to the computer lab.

 

 

They were just outside the door of the class Willow had once taught when Oz suddenly said, “Is it just me, or does it seem like there’s two of everyone all of a sudden?”

This was a heck of a time for Oz to get all chatty and Willow turned and stared at him. But you know, he was right. “That’s… but yeah. Two Slayers, two Watchers, two of me, and now… It’s sort of weird. And you know, other than Liam, the doubles are all pretty awful.”

“Yeah.” Oz was back to the monosyllables Willow had grown accustomed to, but she waited for a moment to see if he wanted to say more. When he didn’t, she opened the door and led the way inside. It occurred to her that maybe he was worried about who he was in the other universe. Later, she’d reassure him – he’d been a White Hat through and through.

 

 

There hadn’t been any books in Liam’s room, so he ventured downstairs to the study. Angel’s taste in books was pathetically dated and Liam searched in vain for some Isaac Asimov or Philip K. Dick. Heck, gritty as the man’s novels were, he’d have happily settled for some Andrew Vachss, but no, the most modern book in this room was written by William Faulkner. He rolled his eyes. What was the point of an unlife if you stayed stuck in the past? And if this library had to be mired in the antediluvian era, couldn’t Angel have sprinkled a few Mickey Spillane or James M. Cain novels amongst the rarefied fustian that littered the ponderous shelves? Didn’t this guy ever read for pleasure? Because, yes, high-toned novels and works of history had their place – and he’d certainly read his fair share of them – but sometimes you just wanted the same sort of diversion from your personal misery and angst that humans got from potato chips and chocolate chip cookies. That wasn’t something you were gonna find in the pages of _À la recherche du temps perdu_.

With a sigh, he pulled a volume of Poe off a shelf and headed back out the way he’d come. Next time he saw Willow, he would ask her for the loan of some books. She had to have better stuff than this.

Willow. He didn’t seem to be able to keep his thoughts away from her for very long, did he? Was it because he’d spent so long as the captive of her counterpart? Oh to hell with it. Self-analysis was such a bore. He’d spent more than enough time second-guessing himself and his every action in the first month or so when he was alone in that damn cell, before he'd taught himself the fine art of shutting down. Sometimes he hadn't been sure what was worse – torturing himself or being tortured. Of course, at times like that, Xander usually took part and answered the question handily.

How much he wished he hadn't thought of Xander. He hated that prick more than anyone – more than the other Willow, perhaps even more than the Master, though he’d been the one to kill Darla right there in front of him. Draining his own creation. But Xander… He was a miserable, puling sadist. A craven coward who puffed himself up by humiliating and degrading Liam in the most despicable ways. For a moment, he could feel a ghost of the pain of Xander mounting him and he felt his face change, that bastard’s laughter ringing in his ears, anger and frustrated rage nearly bursting through his skin.

The fury passed, but when he looked down, he saw that he was still holding the book…and that he was holding one half in each hand. Shit! He strode quickly back upstairs and hid the remains of Poe underneath a tattered petticoat in a dresser drawer. There was a certain symmetry there, wasn’t there? Anyway, Angel had hundreds of dusty, leather-bound books in that library of his. With any luck, he wouldn’t miss one moth-eaten volume.

 

 

Lunchtime - it was a mixed blessing as far as Buffy was concerned. She hadn't remembered to bring anything from home, which meant she was stuck with the disturbingly dubious concoction the very unfriendly lunch lady had come up with today. “Hey, guys,” she caroled as she spotted Xander, Willow, and Oz at a table. Nice of them to commandeer some space right away. She plunked her tray down and sat with an ‘oof.’ “So, any guesses as to what’s underneath the gravy?”

“Well, we no longer have a school mascot…”

“Nope, ‘cause you already ate him… with _out_ gravy,” Willow interjected, grinning when Xander glared at her.

“I thought we were clear that things that happen while we’re possessed don’t count. Besides. Not like I even remember doing it.”

Willow was going to keep teasing Xander, but then she caught a glimpse of Oz’s face out of the corner of her eye. She suddenly felt awful for bringing this subject up, reminding Oz of his own regular possession. Cordelia had come to the library this morning; there was really no need for Willow to continue being tactless and horrible. Time to change the subject. “Buffy, does Angel have a phone?”

Huh? That was a question out of nowhere. “Yeah. Why?”

“It’s just that I was wondering if maybe he’d be able to get an internet connection or something.”

And again: huh?

Luckily, Willow kept babbling and some of Buffy’s confusion was cleared up. “I sort of decided to give Liam my old laptop. I mean, it’s not like I’m using it anymore. So I put some cool programs on it and it’s ready for him to use, it’s just that…”

“He needs an internet connection. I get it.” Buffy was about to say something about Willow maybe being a little excessive with the generosity, but she held her tongue. Willow had been deeply affected by her double and all the evil she’d done. If giving Liam a laptop helped her get over her misplaced guilt, then Buffy was all for it, even if she was less than crazy about Liam himself. “So… any luck with…?” Another student walked close by and Buffy substituted a raised eyebrow for the words ‘the Mayor’s files.’ Better safe than sorry.

“No,” Willow grumbled, deflating all over again. “I’m beginning to think that maybe he’s smarter than me.”

Oz spoke up. “He’s not.”

“He’s got me stumped so far.”

“You’ll win.” Oz turned her face towards his and kissed her gently on the cheek. Suddenly, she felt like she could do anything – including defeat Creepy McMayor’s cyber security.

She was absolutely sincere when she agreed, “I’ll win.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” Xander said through a mouthful of mystery meat. Willow wondered why, after all these years, she hadn’t learned not to look at him when he was eating. Yuck.

Then Oz asked the really tough question. “Has anyone told Faith about Liam?”

Willow snorted at the same time as Buffy and they smiled at each other, but underneath it, Willow could tell that Buffy was uncomfortable. So was she. Faith was a cleavage-y slut bomb and Willow didn’t feel too good about turning her loose on a recent victim of sexual abuse. Who knew what that might do to his recovery? “Does she have to know?”

While it would be nice to keep Faith out of the loop, the fact that Wesley knew by now pretty much made that impossible and so Buffy decided to volunteer for the job of news anchor. “I’ll tell her tonight while we’re patrolling. That way only one of us has to deal with the sleazy remarks and accompanying hand gestures.” Xander looked green and Buffy felt sort of bad for him – after all, she knew what it was like to lose your virginity in a less than ideal way – but he needed to see Faith for who she was, and that was the ‘want, take, have’ girl who didn’t care who she hurt as long as she got what she was looking for. The girl for whom sex was just another way to liven up a dull night.

“Sounds like a plan,” Willow said. “And hey, maybe tonight I’ll tell him about Faith – kinda prepare him. If Angel hasn’t already done it, that is.”

“You’re going to see Liam tonight?”

Oh god. She was supposed to go to the Bronze, wasn’t she? The Dingoes were playing. “I wanted to give him the laptop. And hey! I could bring him to the Bronze to see you guys.” She kissed Oz’s cheek. “No matter what, I’ll be there, though.”

Buffy frowned slightly for a moment before changing her expression back to carefree affability. What would happen if someone who knew Angel approached him? The odds were slim, she admitted, but still - possible, remotely possible, but possible. Also: the idea of Liam becoming part of their whole social circle? Okay, it didn’t exactly work for her. She got that the guy had had it pretty rough and he probably did deserve to get out and kick up his heels – or whatever – but…

She didn’t like him. Could she explain it? No, not really, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. Look at her feelings about Ted. Everyone had thought she was being all Freudian (or something) and overreacting, but he’d turned out to be a psycho robot. Liam was making her spidey senses go off; there was a reason for that and it wasn’t just her being all weird because she was protective of Willow or because he was a twisted version of the love of her life.

Now wasn’t the time to say anything, though. She’d just have to keep her eyes open and wait for something concrete that confirmed her feelings. Then she could speak up.

In the meantime, the bell was about to ring. So she gathered up her stuff and, along with the others, headed to the trash with her lunch tray. Everything was gonna be okay. Buffy had a stake and her Slayer instincts and that made her more than a match for the Playmate of the Month back at Angel’s house.

 

 

To be continued…


	8. Chapter Seven

Feral (Chapter Seven)  
  
  
  
“Another Angel? Really? Whoa. Imagine the possibilities.” Faith’s raised eyebrow and smirk were everything Buffy had feared and she fought to keep from wincing in anticipation of what would come next. “So have you tried him out? Seen how much like the original he is?” Oh god. There was the obscene hand gesture Buffy had foreseen earlier today. Could she just say ‘eww’? Because really, the whole ‘nympho’ routine was starting to rub her the wrong way. It was one thing for Faith to see herself in purely sexual terms, but it made Buffy uncomfortable having someone take the same view of _her_ and the people in her life. Yeah, the Xander incident still bothered her as well.  
  
But Faith obviously couldn’t read body language that wasn’t X-rated because she ignored Buffy’s crossed arms and sour expression and kept right on talking. “I mean it, B. You really ought to take him for a test drive, see which model’s got the most under the hood. Know what I mean?”   
  
No, Faith, but if you lick your lips and make another obscene hand gesture, then maybe… “Duck!” Buffy cried as a figure wearing a very outdated hat appeared right behind her fellow Slayer. Luckily, Faith immediately did as she was told – funny how they could be on the same page in a fight but never at any other time – and within seconds, Buffy had the demon backed up against a crypt.  
  
“Ow! Ooh! What are you, nuts? Going around punching people?”  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and yanked the tasteless hat off his head. Two glowing horns where a bald spot should have been. This guy really needed to look in a mirror because he was clueless as to his own species. “People?”  
  
“So what, I'm a demon. That makes it okay?”  
  
And again, in what might have been a record-setting twice in a row, she and Faith were on the same page – stakes at the ready.   
  
“Hold it, whoa! Stake me now, and you never find out what I got for ya, huh? Think about it. Demon seeks Slayers, highly unusual?”   
  
Okay, the fashion victim did have a point. Faith, however, only seemed interested in the point at the end of her stake. “Talk fast,” she growled, brandishing the weapon pretty menacingly.   
  
“How would you like to get your hands on the Books of Ascension?”  
  
The huh of what?  
  
  
  
“Do you like it?”   
  
Liam held the laptop, caressing the smooth case, almost afraid to open it for fear it wasn’t real. “Like it? I… Thank you.” He took an unnecessary breath and lifted the lid. There it was – keyboard, screen… He couldn’t keep the emotion out of his voice. “I can’t believe you’re giving me this.”  
  
Willow seemed almost embarrassed as she looked down, toe scuffing the floor, teeth nibbling at her bottom lip. She was so completely different from the vampire he’d known… He wished he could give her a new name, just as he’d done for himself. “It’s not new or anything. It’s my old one. But I put some cool new programs on it for you. There’s even a music program Oz thought you might enjoy.”  
  
Why did the mention of Oz make his fangs itch? Liam had no real desire to engage in self-analysis, but it might well be unavoidable. Not now, though. “I’ll have to look at that program. Never been much of a musician, though.”   
  
“Oh.” Willow felt stupid, although it wasn’t like she knew Liam all that well, so how was she supposed to know? “But hey, I did put that graphics program on there too. And there’s another program, a drawing thing. I was never much good with it, but I thought maybe…” She wasn’t sure if Angel liked to draw when he had his soul, but she hadn’t seen any harm in erring on the side of thinking Liam might. He was staring at her now, though. Was that good or bad?  
  
“Thank you.” He was still as readable as a blank page. You’d think being the girlfriend of a taciturn man would be more help than it was proving to be at the moment. She watched as he set the computer down on the table by the sofa – it felt sort of weird to call something in a vampire’s house a coffee table – and sat down before it. Which reminded her… oops!  
  
“Here’s the cable, you know, so you can plug it in and all,” she said as she fished the tangled cord out of her backpack, along with the original disc for the drawing program. She’d almost forgotten where she had originally gotten it, along with those DMA upgrades. Gosh, she hadn’t thought about Ted in a while, even though she still had…   
  
Liam took the cord and the disc from Willow’s outstretched hands. There was writing on… “Ted,” he whispered. It looked just like his handwriting.   
  
“You knew Ted?” Willow had obviously heard him…and even more obviously, they had a friend in common.  
  
“He’s the one who taught me about computers. He was…” Liam debated for a moment. Should he reveal this much? But then he looked into the soft green eyes of the girl who’d just given him a computer – a gateway to the first true pleasure he’d known in so long – and he decided she deserved a small measure of trust. “Ted was my friend.”  
  
Willow felt ill. “He was… your friend?” She looked away for a minute. “Maybe we’re talking about a different…”  
  
“Ted Buchanan,” Liam interrupted and all of Willow’s hopes that there were two different Teds under discussion here were dashed on the rocks of really awkward despair.   
  
Oh God. How was she going to tell him? “Robot Ted?” she asked – well, _squeaked_.  
  
Ted had been a… robot? That was quite a shock. Sure, there’d been a metallic cast to his scent, but the same was true of at least 87 species of demon, and those were only the ones of which Liam was personally aware. Well, it didn’t matter. Because Ted really had been his friend. He’d trusted the man with the truth and with his whole life story – no omissions – and in the end, Ted had been the only one he could count on (except, of course, for Darla).   
  
But now he was thinking about Willow’s questions, and about the fear and worry in her voice, emotions he suddenly felt as well. “He gave you that program. Weren’t you… He must be your friend too, right?”  
  
“He…uhh…he _was_.” Willow could hardly breathe. Again, how was she going to tell him what happened to Ted?   
  
Looking into Liam’s eyes, she knew the answer to that question: She wasn’t. He’d suffered so much already; there were things he didn’t need to know. “He was… He was dating Buffy’s Mom and he left town after they broke up. She kinda freaked about the robot thing.” It wasn’t completely a lie, and it was so much kinder than the strict truth. Let him believe that Ted was out there somewhere. Who knew, after all, what had happened to the Ted in _his_ world?   
  
A second later, wanting to look anywhere but at Liam, she glanced at her watch. “Oh my gosh! I was supposed to… Do you want to come to the Bronze with me?”  
  
The Bronze? Liam couldn’t suppress a shudder. Didn’t she know…?”  
  
It was different here, though, wasn’t it? He fought to get himself under control. Yes, it was different here. “Is something wrong?” He could hear Willow’s voice only faintly through the dissipating fog of his terror, but he could feel the warmth of her hand on his. She was sitting beside him now.  
  
“The Master,” he said softly. “The Bronze was where… It’s a bad place where I come from.” He tried a half-smile, as if the memory was some long-gone, faded thing and not the life he’d lived for years up until the last few days, but the smell of the place… He could call it up as readily as if it still lingered on his now-clean skin.   
  
“Oh gosh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… I should have. I’m so… I’ll just go by myself. I have to go, though. I promised Oz. His band is playing there tonight.”  
  
Oz again. Well, the band explained the music program, didn’t it?   
  
A part of Liam wanted to just tell her to go, but… No. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to seem weak in front of her. Maybe it was because he wanted to show himself that he could conquer his fear. Or maybe he had questions and her guilt made her vulnerable enough that it would be easy to coax her into giving him answers – like the truth about what had happened to Ted. “I’ll go with you. It might be fun. Anyway, now’s as good a time as any to see for myself just how different things are here.”  
  
“Great,” she said, getting up from the sofa. Liam followed her lead as she headed for the door. It was safe to leave the computer there, he figured. Not likely that an archaic type like Angel would even touch it.   
  
Off to the Bronze…   
  
  
  
Sure, Buffy had gone off patrolling with Faith, but Angel wasn’t in the habit of taking nights off, so he’d spent an hour or so out in the dark byways of Sunnydale himself. However, things had been pretty quiet in the deserted streets and alleys – too quiet, in fact. Nothing he could do in the way of finding out the cause, however, so here he was. Home at last. He wandered into his house, his senses telling him it was entirely empty. That was worrying. Where could Liam have gone?   
  
Moments later, he saw the computer sitting on the table and realized Liam hadn’t been alone all evening. Obviously Willow had been here. Had Liam escorted her home? Angel wasn’t so sure that was a good idea; the same went for the two of them being alone together when no one else was in the house. Yes, Liam had thawed a bit _and_ he’d assured Angel that he considered Willow his friend, but it was so soon. The scars left by his captivity were still fresh. Was it really safe for him to spend time with a girl who, while she was absolutely nothing like the vampire they’d encountered, looked like her and shared her name?  
  
Damn it. He’d been looking forward to taking a break from his concerns about the odd lack of demon activity in the pages of Sartre, or maybe Poe for a change of pace, but now he felt compelled to see if he could locate his houseguest and make sure that nothing had gone badly for Willow. Sighing heavily, he turned on his heel and went back out the door. With any luck, this wouldn’t take long.  
  
  
  
Willow’s hand was incongruously strong as she held his, offering support as they entered a very different version of the Bronze Liam knew. He was still stunned by what he’d managed to pry out of her about Ted.  
  
Ted was gone – dead – killed by none other than Buffy Summers, the Slayer. He had managed to disguise his rage, but if Willow’s expression of regret and sympathy hadn’t been so completely genuine... He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted. As it was, he was still reeling.   
  
And to top it all off, now he was back where his years of torment had begun – or at least in the mirror image of it.   
  
It was weird, thinking of the Bronze as having once been Vamp Central, a place with a dungeon where Liam had been caged like an animal…and given an animal’s name. Before now, the worst torture Willow had associated with the Bronze was being mocked by Cordelia during her wallflower days. She felt silly for that, for thinking that those ‘softer side of Sears’ remarks were so gutting and painful. Liam had known _real_ pain… and tonight, she’d caused him more.   
  
When was she going to learn to keep her mouth shut? She hadn’t even had a single mocha today, so blaming it on caffeine? Not possible. But she’d spilled her guts anyway. Oh sure, she’d done her best to put some kind of gentler spin on it, but that didn’t change the fact that Liam knew that their version of his only friend had been sent to the junkyard for all eternity. It seemed like no matter which version of Willow Liam ran into, the result was nothing but badness for him.  
  
Should she let him know that she’d saved Ted’s left hand? Would he want it as a keepsake or something? Or would telling him that she had it hurt him even more? “I really am sorry,” she said softly, ashamed of the almost-tears in her eyes – not like she really had a right to them.   
  
“I know.” Willow heard the words, but she couldn’t tell if he meant them. She’d understand if he didn’t. He probably wouldn’t want to see her ever again after tonight. Not like she’d blame him.   
  
Deep thought was no longer possible now, though, because Oz and the Dingoes had just started their set. Guiding Liam through the crowd, she made her way right up to the stage. Hopefully, he’d like the music. Willow smiled up at her boyfriend and he smiled back before concentrating on his guitar again. At least she’d done right by someone tonight.  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, Liam centered himself. How long it had been since he’d been amongst so many humans, heard so many heartbeats, felt the thrum of so much _life_. It was… intoxicating and powerful. He wasn’t sure what it all meant, but it was good and that was enough. Liam needed that tonight – he’d needed it for so long.  
  
But what he didn’t need? The caterwauling on stage. It wasn’t that he didn’t like modern music, because he did. It was just that he preferred that it be performed by musicians who had talent or at least an artistic point of view. This band was truly awful – and not with the deliberate disdain of musicality he found almost charming in punk. No, this was simple incompetence. However, the milling throng of teenagers seemed to enjoy this noise, so he kept his distaste to himself, especially since Willow was gazing at Oz as if he were Eric Clapton himself.  
  
Had the Oz he'd known been in a band? His memories of the Oz from his world were few and impersonal and anything but fond. The boy had refused to trust him and he, along with Rupert Giles, had made it clear that they wouldn’t aid him in his plan to stop the Harvest. The bitterness of that abandonment – it tasted of Darla’s ashes and the Master’s laughter and it burned like holy water against his soul. He’d shared none of this with Willow, and he didn’t intend to, but he also hadn’t expected to be in a social situation with the boy either. This could be awkward.  
  
The band played on.  
  
  
  
Angel followed his senses and was surprised at the direction he found himself traveling – away from the residential neighborhood where Willow lived and instead right to the Bronze. Why would Liam come here?  
  
Just as he was about to go inside and see for himself what was what, he felt a hand on his arm. “Hey, stranger.” He turned and Buffy’s lips met his cheek for a brief kiss. It was easily the best part of his night, even if, as always, it reminded him of what they could never share. “What’cha doin’ here?”  
  
“Looking for Liam, actually. When I got home, he wasn’t there, and…”  
  
“He’s probably here with Willow,” Buffy interjected. “She said she was going to invite him to see the Dingoes after she gave him her old laptop. Which reminds me: I’m supposed to ask if you’d be willing to set up an internet connection or something.” She shrugged, not really all that invested in Liam getting to take a drive on the information superhighway… and relieved that with Angel she didn’t have to pretend to be. “Well, now that I’ve done my duty and asked you, we can talk about something else. Have you ever heard of the Books of Ascension?”  
  
Angel was looking at her like she’d grown an extra head, so she felt pretty safe in assuming that the answer was no. Good. So it wasn’t just her then.   
  
“While Faith and I were on patrol tonight, some demon tracked us down and offered to sell us the Books of Ascension for $5000. I was sort of hoping maybe you knew something about them, but since you don’t, I guess that means tomorrow I’ll have to get Giles to check the demonic Blue Book and see if $5000 is drastically above the suggested retail price or not.” She sighed dramatically, already hating the upcoming meeting since she knew Wesley would have to be involved. “Wanna go in and catch the end of Oz’s set?”  
  
As much as he found Oz more tolerable than Buffy’s other male friend, Angel couldn’t really say that he wanted to go in and be assaulted by the raucous noise that seemed to pass for music to everyone but him. Still, it was clear that Buffy was eager to see her friend play and since Angel was equally eager to be with her – and to make sure Liam wasn’t doing anything untoward – he smiled and said, “Sure.”  
  
“Let’s go.” Buffy grabbed Angel’s hand and pulled him along into the club. For a second she felt an echo of her earlier concern about what people would think about seeing Liam and Angel together, but then she thought about it and calmed down. The truth was that the kids in Sunnydale ignored many weirder things; no way would this cause a stir.   
  
Spying a path to the stage, her eyes quickly found Willow and Liam. Willow was swaying enthusiastically to the music and Buffy didn’t have to see her face to know that she was staring at Oz with eyes full of love…the same way Buffy always looked at Angel. Liam, though? Liam was another matter. He wasn’t watching the band. No, his eyes were locked on someone else. They were locked on Willow. Buffy might not have any idea why or what he was thinking as he stared at her best friend, but she knew one thing even better than she had before – Liam wasn’t Angel. He wasn’t anything like Angel. And that wiggins she’d been having since the minute she first saw him? Yeah, that wasn’t going away any time soon.  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	9. Chapter Eight

Feral (Chapter Eight)  
  
  
  
“So. He like the laptop?” Oz’s voice was as even and uninflected as ever. Funny how on him it was cute and comforting. Liam? Not so much.  
  
“I think so. Except I don’t know if Angel’s going to get an internet connection, so…”  
  
“Yeah, that would help.”  
  
There was silence for a moment or two after that. Was it comfy silence or ‘I’m really sick of talking about Liam’ silence? As much as she’d become pretty fluent in ‘Oz’, Willow wasn’t quite at the native speaker level yet. “You guys sounded really good tonight,” she offered, wanting Oz to know that he was still the most important person in her life, no matter how much attention she’d been compelled to devote to Liam.  
  
“Thanks.” Did he think she was just saying that to be nice?  
  
“No, really. I mean it. You sounded the best you ever have.”  
  
Oz turned towards her and smiled softly. Willow grinned back. The sound of the van driving over the quiet Sunnydale streets was really loud. Had she noticed that before or was it just tonight? “When's the band gonna play The Bronze again?”  
  
“Two weeks, I think. We’re supposed to play in Fresno this weekend, though.”   
  
Willow’s face fell. “You’re going away again?” This was the downside to being in love with a musician. Sure, she wanted him to be a success, but it was hard that he was away all the time.   
  
“Just for a couple days.” He was smiling again. Obviously, he thought it was cute that she was going to miss him. Sometimes he just didn’t get it.   
  
Or maybe she was the one who didn’t get it.   
  
He parked the van in front of her house. “You can come with us if you want,” he offered; it didn’t sound like an afterthought. This time, Willow was the one who smiled.  
  
“I can’t miss school. But thanks.”   
  
Oz motioned to the back of the van and Willow eagerly hopped out of her seat and into the dark compartment behind her. Even though her house was empty, she didn’t suggest they go in there instead – neither did Oz. Guess he agreed that smoochies were more fun when they were sort of illicit.  
  
When Oz’s arms were around her and he was kissing her, though? It didn’t feel illicit at all. It just felt really, really good.  
  
  
  
With her hand in Angel’s, Buffy tried to find some pleasure as she accompanied him on the walk home – not so easy with Liam right there with them. He was quiet and it was very creepy. Okay, yes, Angel was the strong, silent type himself, but it wasn’t the same – and no, she couldn’t say why, but it was different and that was a fact. “So,” she said, with the kind of fake friendliness that reminded her uncomfortably of substitute teachers – was she getting old? – “What did you think of the Dingoes?”  
  
“Not bad.” Great. Words that meant nothing and an expression on his face that was more like an anti-expression. This guy made Oz look like Xander in the animation department.   
  
“I thought they sounded great tonight.” Did she sound defiant? Fine. Not like she wanted to be Liam’s pal anyway. Then she remembered Willow’s Resolve Face and how many times it had been wielded on Liam’s behalf. Oh heck. She had to get along with him – at least until she could prove that he was not as cute and cuddly as the name he’d once had.   
  
Angel shrugged, not knowing what to say. He didn’t agree with either opinion. Sure, he thought Oz was a nice guy, but he wasn’t nearly fond enough of him to call that noise music. “Did you know Oz?” he blurted out clumsily, trying to transition to a new topic. Smooth; really smooth.  
  
“A little.” Liam’s statement was simple, succinct, and final. Angel wondered: Was _he_ this hard to converse with? Probably, huh. Oh well; you couldn’t say he wasn’t trying. Also, was it just him or was it hard to tell just exactly what Liam meant? He was starting to understand why Buffy found _him_ so irritating sometimes. Strange to see yourself from the outside. Very strange, indeed. Then there was the matter of just how little information Liam had shared so far. Understandable, perhaps, but very frustrating. Had Willow had any luck tonight in prying some details out of this guy?  
  
Buffy wanted to question Liam more about his relationship with Oz back in Bizarro-land, but she knew the direct approach would let him know she was suspicious of him, so she opted for being a bit more circuitous. Taking him by surprise might get him to tell them _something_ about… _something_. “So, I guess Willow told you about Faith, huh?”  
  
“Faith?”  
  
Well, that question and the look on his face told her she’d surprised him… and more than she’d thought she would. Which meant _she_ was taken by surprise. Not exactly the plan. Willow had spent a couple of hours with Liam. What the heck had they talked about without Faith’s name coming up? “Faith. She’s… the other Slayer.”  
  
There was another Slayer? But how…? Liam tried to play it cool and composed himself before saying, “Another Slayer, huh? Where I came from, we only had one. I guess that’s another difference between your world and mine.”  
  
“Not really,” Buffy groused and Liam could tell she’d forgotten herself for a moment by the way she caught herself and then stumbled over her explanation. “I sort of died. Not for very long, and obviously not permanently, but a few seconds seems to be all it takes for another Slayer to get called.”  
  
There was a world of discomfort and irritation under those words and he itched to know the story, but he needed to proceed with caution. “What’s she like?” he asked in as guileless a manner as possible.  
  
Other than having more issues than TV Guide? “She’s… she’s okay. You probably won’t see her too much, but you really ought to know about her in advance, so... Yeah. Now you know.” Buffy smiled and kept smiling, but inside she was already writing the script for the discussion she needed to have with Willow. Especially because she had been so distracted by wondering what the heck Liam and Willow had been talking about that she’d sounded like a dork just now. Buffy really hated sounding like a dork.   
  
Then again, maybe it was a good thing. Sometimes being underestimated was an asset. If Liam thought she was a ditz... You know, dating a demon might be rubbing off on her because she was definitely getting sneakier.  
  
Still, she wished the clumsiness had been more of the intentional and less of the actual. Also, she was now wondering if she should give Liam a few more details about Faith. Might be fair to warn him that if he saw her, he’d more than likely find himself in the sights of yet another dominatrix wearing leather pants.   
  
Then she looked at him, shadowed eyes revealing nothing, and she decided not to bother. He was a big boy; he could take care of himself. Besides, Angel was on a ‘Faith can be redeemed’ kick and she didn’t want to sound catty in front of him. Not like she didn’t hope he was right. When the chips were down, Faith was a Slayer. That had to mean something, didn’t it? (She tried not to think about how Faith had killed a man…how Faith had tried to blame _her_.)  
  
“Well, we’re here,” Angel said. That had been one uncomfortable walk, but at least Buffy and Liam’s focus had been diverted enough that he’d managed to lead them all to his house first instead of Buffy’s. He wanted to spend some time with his girl.  
  
If Liam was surprised at being dropped off at the mansion, he didn’t show it. Angel and Buffy watched as he made his way down the stone steps and then into the house.   
  
“Alone at last,” Buffy crooned, wrapping her arms around him. It was a cliché to say she was like sunshine, but that didn’t make it any less true. He could almost see the golden rays he missed in her eyes.   
  
Slipping their arms from around each other and holding hands instead, they started to walk away towards her house. Slowly. It wasn’t like Angel was in a hurry to end the night. “It was a good idea. Telling him about Faith. I should have thought of it myself.”  
  
He was probably right, but she wasn’t going to say that, because she had something more important to talk to him about; something which had been on a slow burn in the back of her mind since they’d gone to the Bronze. “Has Liam said anything to you about Willow?”  
  
“Willow?”  
  
Okay, this was now the second time in the last half hour that a guy who looked like Angel was staring at her like she was speaking another language. “You know: Willow, red hair, great with computers, dating a werewolf, has a skanky double with a leather fetish, my best friend?”  
  
“I know who Willow is.”   
  
Was that Angel’s irritated voice? She so did not deserve that… but yeah, she was going to apologize anyway. Maybe she _had_ been too snide. Her Liam-wiggins was not making her a contender for Miss Congeniality. “Sorry. It’s just… I’m getting a weird vibe from him, okay? He was staring at Willow tonight and it wasn’t a normal kind of staring. I’m just worried that he doesn’t totally get that she’s not the evil vampire version, you know?”  
  
Angel stopped; so did Buffy. “He told me they were friends,” he responded, mulling over what Buffy had just said. He wanted to believe Liam, but he trusted Buffy more than anyone in the world. If she was worried, there might be a reason for it. Still… She sometimes overreacted. Not often, but maybe now was one of those times. He ran his free hand through his hair, frustrated by his confusion. “I’ll keep an eye on him, okay? She just gave him a computer, so that should keep him pretty happy, especially when I set up an internet connection. Anyway, we have to remember that this – freedom and this world – is all really new to him. Maybe he was just staring at Willow because she was the only person he knew.”  
  
What Angel said made sense – it did – and Buffy wondered now if maybe her spidey senses were off this time. She sighed. “You’re probably right. It’s just…”  
  
“She’s your friend and you’re protective. I get that. Believe me. I don’t want to see Willow in any danger either. Like I said, I’ll keep my eyes open.” A moment later, Buffy felt even more reassured when Angel kissed her; she got lost in sharing the moonlight with the man she loved. They were still a long way from home.  
  
  
  
The gloom of the front room was almost oppressive, the stone walls too reminiscent of his recent accommodations for Liam’s liking. How on Earth could Angel stand this place? Even before his captivity, Liam would have seen this place as a ridiculous, gothic cliché, but the sight of the computer on the table was reassuring. He had no internet connection, but why not amuse himself with the programs Willow had installed?   
  
Sitting down, he opened up the laptop and hit the power button, hoping Willow had charged it up. He wanted to just use it right now and not roam the house looking for a convenient outlet. She hadn’t disappointed him – it was fully charged. Not only that, but the programs she had loaded onto it were amazing – she’d given him the same graphics program she’d been using the other day and the drawing program… It had been so long since he’d sketched and somehow it seemed even more exciting to try it on the computer.  
  
Opening the program and familiarizing himself with the tools, he then began to try his hand at creating; not thinking, just letting the lines form and enjoying the process.  
  
It didn’t take him long to realize who he was sketching. It was Willow. Not really a surprise. She was his only friend, she’d given him this computer, and he’d managed to separate her from her counterpart in his mind with astonishing ease. Or maybe not so astonishing – they were so very unlike each other.   
  
He paused for a moment. Perhaps he should show Willow the sketch when he was done – as a thank you gift. Yes, he decided, that was exactly what he would do. But it needed a lot more work. Deciding that this wasn’t the most comfortable environment, and worried about the battery life of his new laptop, he saved his work before picking up the laptop, the cord, and the disc Willow had given him, then carried his treasures upstairs. It would be a lot more comfortable, and private, finishing his work in his room.  
  
  
  
“Well, at least we sort of know what the Ascension is – in a vague, not all that helpful or specific way.” Willow’s attempt at looking on the bright side fell sadly flat as she and Xander and Buffy trudged out of the library. Xander was obviously still wounded by Cordelia’s clumsily-disguised pass at Wesley. It didn’t seem fair. Oz had forgiven _her_ , but Cordelia absolutely refused to even be nice to Xander, let alone take him back. Not for the first time, she really wished there was something she could do. Because things just seemed to go from bad to worse for Xander. He’d even lost his virginity to…  
  
That was it! Now she realized why she’d felt like there was something she’d forgotten to do a few minutes ago. They’d been talking about... “I forgot to tell Liam about Faith last night.”  
  
Buffy offered her friend a rueful smile. “I know. I ended up telling him myself.” What do you know? This was the opening she’d been hoping for. “What did you guys talk about?”  
  
“Ummm…” Willow was fidgeting and chewing her bottom lip. That was never good. Never. Now Buffy was worried – and possibly ready to stake Liam, depending on just what had Willow twitching like she’d just drunk three mochas.  
  
“What did you talk about?” she asked more forcefully.  
  
“Yeah, what did you talk about?” Buffy glared at Xander before he'd even finished talking. There was only one ‘bad cop’ and she was it.   
  
“About computers and stuff. That’s all. But you know how I get all distracted and everything when I talk geek.”  
  
Buffy and Xander exchanged glances. Nope. No one was buying this.  
  
Lying to Buffy was not exactly Willow’s strong suit and even though she wasn’t really _technically_ lying, she wasn’t exactly telling the truth – also, it was pretty obvious that she wasn’t getting away with this not-lying either. “We really were just talking about computers, it’s just… We also talked about who taught him stuff.” She winced as she bit her lower lip too hard.   
  
“O-kay. And this was hard to tell us because…?” Xander responded.  
  
“He…uhh… He was sort of friends with Ted.”  
  
“Ted? As in Ted, the-maker-of-unforgettable-mini-pizzas-T

ed?” Great memory there, Xander. Buffy glared at him again.

“I think you mean ‘Ted, the psychotic robot who almost kidnapped my Mom and tried to kill me’.” She kept on glaring and Xander wilted.

“Yeah. What you said.”

Arguments over descriptions aside, Buffy now had more of a wiggins than ever. “He was friends with Ted?” she reiterated.

This was exactly why Willow hadn’t wanted to say anything. “Ted wasn’t the same there, Buffy. He was… normal. For a robot anyway. He didn’t kidnap _anyone_.”

“He was still Ted. How different could he have been?”

Buffy’s words felt as if they cut right through Willow’s skin. How could she say that? Did that mean that deep down she thought…? It did, didn’t it? All that stuff Buffy had said about there being no chance of Willow being evil was just…

Of all people, Xander was the one who got it. “She didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that… he was a robot. Aren’t all robots pretty much alike?”

“No. They’re not. Ted was nothing like any other robot I’ve even heard of. And who knows what he was like in a different universe? The Ted Buchanan who created him there might have done it for totally different reasons. We don’t know.” Her voice rose and so did the colour in her face. Was she being defensive? You bet. Nothing like finding out that your best friend had been lying to you when she said you were nothing like your evil twin to make you cranky.

It took her a moment, but Buffy realized what she’d said and holy God did she wish she could unsay it. “I really didn’t mean it that way.” She reached out and put her hand on Willow’s shoulder. It hurt when her friend flinched, but she left her hand where it was. “I meant it like Xander said. What do I know about robots? I’m barely up to answering my email.” She pulled Willow into a hug and almost cried with relief when Willow hugged her back. “You’re the expert – and you’re right, Ted was probably a totally different robot there. Hey, in a world where” – she stopped herself before she said something even clumsier – “anything’s possible,” she finished awkwardly.

Feeling guilty for overreacting (and projecting), Willow nodded as she and Buffy let go of each other. “Sorry I got all weird,” she offered. Weird was kind of an understatement, but it was shorter than ‘aggressive and nasty because of my creepy, never-ending, existential crisis’, so she decided to just stick with it, even if she wasn’t normally in favor of using one word where ten would do. “I better get to History,” she added a few seconds later. The bell punctuated her pronouncement and she and Buffy and Xander split off to go to their various classes. Too bad no one was giving a lecture today on how not to be a jerk to your best friends. She could really have used that one.

 

 

It was still daylight and Liam probably could have used some more rest, but he was fleeing his dreams. Drawing Willow last night had stirred something in him that he’d rather not explore and his dreams had been chaotic and disturbing; he needed sanctuary. Without an internet connection, Angel’s pretentious books offered his best chance of escape, so here he was in the library, trying to choose between ‘horrifically tedious’ and ‘mind-numbingly enervating’ – choices still far superior to anything he’d had where he’d come from, so he should probably count his blessings.

He was just about to pull a volume of Thackeray off the shelf when a familiar tingling sensation made him turn around. “Buff-”

Just as he had gotten out the first syllable of her name, however, he realized this was a different girl.

“Angel?” This girl was dark-haired and affecting an air of…something; he wasn’t sure what. She must be… He stood still as she looked him over, her eyes changing to those he hoped he’d never see again and one hand moving so familiarly to caress a leather-covered thigh. When she spoke once more, he could hear the jangle of keys and the scraping of chains against stone, feel the burn of holy water and the hiss of flame. “You must be the new guy.” She extended the hand with which she’d just worshipped her own flesh. He didn’t take it. “I’m Faith.”

 

 

 

To be continued…


	10. Chapter Nine

Feral (Chapter Nine)  
  
  
  
“I’m Faith.”  
  
No, she wasn’t. She was pain and captivity and sadism. She was a sister under the skin to the leather-wrapped predator who’d held him in the bowels of a demonic hell for the last two years, and while she might not look like the vampire who'd owned him, Liam knew what she was when he saw her. Her hand stayed extended towards him, but the point of the sharpest stake ever carved could not have induced him to take it. Some things were more dread than dust.  
  
“I was hoping to get the chance to meet you,” she said, her voice low and throaty and redolent of sex. She made his fangs itch and the fingers of each hand long to wrap themselves around her neck and snap it.  
  
Much to his relief, a second later they were no longer alone. “Faith,” Angel said in surprise as he entered his library. What was she doing here? She turned to face him, eyes haunted, and he got it – or he thought he did, anyway. Once you’d killed… Obviously today was a hard day, for whatever reason, and she needed to talk. Must have been jarring for her to run into his double, even though she already knew he existed. “I see you’ve met Liam.”  
  
“Yeah. Must be pretty weird. For both of you.” She was awkward now in a way she hadn’t been a moment ago and it almost had Liam doubting his own perceptions.  
  
Almost.  
  
She was good but she wasn’t that good, and that just made his contempt for Angel grow as he saw him swallow this act hook, line, and sinker. What was it with Angel and Slayers, anyway? His twin had a serious hard-on for the Chosen Ones. How different could the two of them be? He was beginning to realize that the answer was: completely, and then some.  
  
“Yeah,” Angel replied noncommittally. There was tension in the room and he didn’t understand it. What had gone on before he came in? “If you wanna talk…” He gave Liam a pretty significant look. Luckily, the other man got it; he nodded and walked out of the room.   
  
“Thanks,” Faith gave Angel a half-smile and he watched as she rubbed her hands on her legs in what he took to be a nervous gesture. She obviously noticed him looking. “Feels like I’ll never get the blood off, you know?”  
  
“I know.” He wished there was something he could say, some hope that the feeling would go away, but his experience told him differently. “What’s wrong?”  
  
He sat down on the chaise and she sat beside him, eyes wide as she stared into his, eyes full of both innocence and damage. “I don’t want… But sometimes the slaying… I like it too much. I’m scaring myself, you know?”  
  
“I know,” he replied, because it was as true as anything he could ever say. He was terrified of himself every moment of every day. Was it this way for Liam? “But, Faith, you need help. You can’t do this alone.”   
  
“I know. For real now, I'm scared. Scared of what I am, what I'm turning into. Cold-blooded, straight-up killer. Like you.” She was close to him now and he could feel her breath against his skin.  
  
“Not like me. I didn't have a choice. But you do. You can stop this.”   
  
“Believe me, I don't want to end up the way everybody said I would, dead or alone or a loser.”   
  
“No, you don't have to.” After all, unlike him, she was human. No demon inside craving blood that didn’t reek of the barnyard, no memories of enough murders to fill a morgue to bursting… no curse standing between her and happiness forevermore.  
  
Her eyes were full of clouds; had she heard his doubts about himself? “I don't know. Maybe it's too late for me.”  
  
He took her hands, wanting her to believe him, because he didn’t doubt _her_ chances for a minute. “It's not.”  
  
“Angel, I'm so scared.” A second later, she was in his arms, hugging him tightly, and he ached for her fear and pain.   
  
He hugged her back. “It's alright, shh, it's okay.” For all that she put on a façade of being tough and streetwise beyond her years, inside he truly believed she was a lost child – a child who had done terrible things, yes, but still a child.   
  
But then… as they parted… her face close to his… No. He knew what she thought she wanted, but it was wrong. Not just because of Buffy, but she was there in his heart – so much so that Faith’s desire had blindsided him. He pulled back “Whoa. Faith, I, look, I can be here for you. But not like that, alright? I'm with Buffy.” There was more he could have said, but he worried that it would hurt her, so he left it at Buffy.  
  
“Buffy, yeah. I didn't mean it like that.” That was a lie and he knew she knew it. He said nothing, but she corrected herself. “Maybe I did, but I wouldn't press it. You love her, don't you?”  
  
She knew nothing about love, did she? Until this moment, he hadn’t realized… But no, she had no experience of loyalty or fidelity. Love was just another word, one of many that were meaningless in the world she came from. “I love her,” he said, giving the word weight and truth and hoping she learned enough to know that it was more than a sound – it was something real and it was something she could have, someday in the future and with someone else.   
  
“Good for you. The two of you, you're lucky.” He could see she didn’t get it and it made him sad. “Friends?” He wondered if she understood that word any better.  
  
“Yeah, we're friends,” he replied.   
  
“Then I'm lucky too.” If only she knew how true that was. She had friends – more than just him – she had options. If she would just open her eyes. “I'd better go.”  
  
“Where?” he asked.  
  
“I need to cool down. Spend some time alone. Don't worry about me. You've been a big help. Just knowing somebody cares.” He wished she meant that, but the words rang hollow. She paused as he walked her to the door. “Hey, I know I shouldn't be asking this, but do you think if things were different... that things between you and me would be different, too?”   
  
Shaking his head ruefully, realizing he hadn’t gotten through – not at all – he answered her, giving her the kindness of uncertainty, since she seemed to have received nothing else from him. “We’ll never know.”  
  
“Right. How could we?”  
  
“Take care of yourself,” he said sadly.   
  
“Lifetime of practice.” She stretched up, planting a kiss just to the side of his mouth. Again, he pulled back. Then she was gone.  
  
  
  
Cutting her last class had seemed like a good idea at the time – she was a senior and it was expected, right? Besides, she needed to see Angel a whole lot more than she needed History. Didn’t she get enough of that in Giles’s dusty old books?  
  
Now, though? Now she was wishing she was more like Willow, she to whom classes were sacred rituals which should never be cut. Faith was here… and she had her mitts all over Angel.   
  
Oh sure, if Buffy squinted and pretended she’d just had a lobotomy, she could tell herself that it was Liam standing in the shadows of the courtyard with Faith’s lips on his face, but… No, it was Angel. She fought back tears as Faith left – hips swaying – off to who knew where, but she made no move to let Angel know she was here. She couldn’t believe what she’d just watched.  
  
Faith had kissed Angel. _Her_ Angel.  
  
To be fair and honest, Faith had kissed his cheek, so Angel’s lips hadn’t joined the party, but that didn’t make Buffy’s heart hurt any less – and it didn’t make her any less jealous. Deciding that seeing Angel wasn’t something she could handle right now, she turned and slipped away before he even knew she had been there. She had a lot of thinking to do.  
  
  
  
Liam watched Angel and Faith from a dark corner as they parted, wondering at the extra ‘itch’ he’d felt briefly before his mind refocused on the drama that had just played out in the entryway. That kiss… The body language was unmistakable. Seemed like Angel’s affinity for Slayers was no one way street, though in Faith’s case, she didn’t seem to be as picky as Buffy. He wished he knew what had gone on in the library. Because despite having seen Angel pull away from the girl, he wasn’t sure. Had Angel realized he was being watched? Was he involved with Faith? After all, she seemed more pure sex than perfect happiness so maybe Angel was keeping her on the side – a bit of relief for when all that slap and tickle with his one true love jeopardized his soul. He wondered what his host would think, though, if he knew his inflatable sex Slayer had tried to sink her claws into _him_ as well. He shuddered at the memory of those eyes looking him over. It had taken him a few moments alone to get his bearings, to realize that he’d never be at her mercy, that this wasn’t the world from which he’d come.   
  
Now, though, the fear was gone. What was left? Hatred for that girl and a lot of suspicion as well. Okay, she was a Slayer, but he’d learned the hard way that Slayers weren’t pure and dedicated and devoted to the sacred duty of saving mankind. No, to Liam’s way of thinking, Slayers were generally overrated. Whistler had conned him – sworn he’d have an ally if he fought the Master to stop the Harvest. What had he gotten instead? A no-show Chosen Bitch, a team of incompetent losers who’d spurned his help, and the dust of his sire in his dead lungs. Not to mention years of captivity and torture as the town (the world?) fell to the forces of darkness.   
  
But speaking of the fight – the fight for which he’d once naively been glad to sign up… Might this be the way to position himself advantageously? Angel, after all, was entangled to a highly inefficient degree with both Slayers, thereby making the three of them basically useless when the chips were down. While he’d lost so much of his former thirst for atonement inside that recently-escaped cell, he wasn’t entirely heartless… or uninterested in making his own place in this brave new world.  
  
Especially since, much to his discomfort, he had his own personal incentive for both good deeds and crafty planning. Memories of last night’s dreams… visions of pale skin and red hair and innocence laid out before him… things he didn't want to remember... desires he refused to own…  
  
He shook his head, clearing the remnants of disturbing fantasy from his waking mind, and got back to pragmatic thought, to the real world where Willow was his one and only friend.  
  
When he saw her next, he would offer his services. She’d know best how he could help, and she’d be able to smooth his path. Also, he would ask her about Faith. Oh, he’d be cautious, but she would know at least a few biographical details and perhaps even some gossip about the girl. She trusted him – he’d be able to learn something worthwhile from her.  
  
It was a long while until school would let out, wasn’t it? He sat down on the couch, pretending to be engrossed in Thackeray. Angel, after all, would probably be back in here at any moment.  
  
  
  
“All I’m saying is that I really don’t think it’s necessary for us to get all buddy-buddy with this guy.”  
  
Willow rolled her eyes. How many versions of Angel could Xander hate at one time? This one hadn’t done anything except _exist_. “He’s been through a lot. Don’t you think it would be nice if we all tried to be friends with him?” She looked at Oz, figuring he’d back her up. She was surprised at the blankness she saw instead. Oh, sure, he wasn’t big on emotional display, but she’d become pretty good at reading the subtle variations of unvarying stoicism that constituted his facial expressions and this was really _blank_.  
  
“He liked your music,” Willow said cheerily, hoping that would make Oz more inclined toward being Liam’s pal. He needed friends – and hey, Oz could probably use a new friend, too, especially one he could talk to about the whole ‘demon’ thing. As much as Willow now felt like she understood what it was like, that was something she really didn’t want to talk about with anyone, not even to be there for her werewolf boyfriend. Not like _he_ had ever tortured or raped anyone. Okay, technically she hadn’t either, but she felt a strong sense of guilt, nonetheless. Was it ever going to go away?  
  
“You took him to the Bronze?” Xander interjected, sounding as if she’d brought Angelus into a locked room full of small children.  
  
“Yeah,” Oz replied for her. “He actually seemed less uncomfortable there than Angel does.” Willow wound her arm through his and kissed his cheek. Good boyfriend.  
  
“You know, if you gave him a chance, you might just like him. He’s really a cool guy.” Now Oz was looking at her strangely. What had she done? “I was thinking you could go over there with me this afternoon. You know, talk to him and stuff. I think he’d like that.” Her gaze shifted to Xander, hoping he’d get the hint and come along. Whether he liked it or not, Liam was here to stay and they really should try to get along.  
  
Then suddenly something occurred to her and she felt selfish and horrible because she hadn’t thought of it before now. What kind of person was she? “Look, Xander, I know you probably feel guilty about your evil twin and all, but…” Her voice trailed off. He was looking at her like she was crazy. “Guess not,” she said softly. “Look, Oz and I will go and you can just keep irrationally hating someone you don’t even know.”   
  
Taking Oz’s hand, she stood up. Luckily, so did Oz. “Wanna head out?”  
  
“Sure,” he said with a soft smile. He got it and once again she felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Understanding was a whole lot better than lots of words or even more than one discernible facial expression.   
  
Just as they turned to leave, it seemed like someone else got it too. “Will?” She turned back and Xander was standing up. “Mind if I join you guys?”  
  
  
  
Angel had been annoyingly quiet since he’d returned to the parlour and Liam wished that wasn’t one of the few ways other than physical appearance in which his counterpart resembled him. How long could two people occupy the same room without speaking? Well, if anyone was going to break this ridiculous silence, he supposed it would have to be him. “She’s different,” he said casually.  
  
“Different?” Clearly the man had been lost in thought.  
  
“Different from Buffy,” Liam said, expanding on his original statement. What he didn’t say was how much she was _like_ someone else.  
  
Shaking his head, Angel agreed. “She’s definitely that.” He was still troubled by what had just transpired. How could he help Faith if she insisted on sexualizing their relationship? Was there anything he could do to turn things around?   
  
Maybe Liam’s impression of her would tell him something. Who knew? “What did you think of her?”  
  
Much to his surprise, Liam’s eyes narrowed in what seemed for a split second to be anger before his face returned to its formerly placid expression. “Not my type,” he said succinctly.   
  
Did Liam think…? “That’s not what I meant,” Angel hastened to correct, wondering why Liam seemed so hostile. Even if he _had_ meant something more along the lines of personal interest, why would it make the other man so angry?  
  
Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to get the chance to probe for answers.  
  
“Hey,” came a familiar, cheerful voice. Willow was here, and she’d brought Oz and Xander. How odd to have them visiting his house this way.   
  
“Hey,” Oz added, his tone much more subdued. Angel found himself staring at him and Willow as they stood there with their hands entwined. One quiet and taciturn, one sprightly and animated… one a demon and one a pure-hearted girl. They were so much like him and Buffy – or rather, what he and Buffy could have been if the curse weren’t in the way. As much as he felt some envy, what he felt more was a sense of identification, a hope that they never again lost sight of each other the way they almost had. He found himself glaring at Xander. Because he wanted Willow and Oz to make it. Someone had to.  
  
Luckily, glaring at Xander was utterly normal so it created no comment. Especially not since Xander was glaring back. Yeah, nothing unusual there. Xander hadn’t said a word since he’d walked in either. Nice manners, boy. What the hell had Willow seen in him?  
  
Liam sat silently, assessing the situation and steeling himself.  
  
Xander was here.  
  
It was almost too much to bear after his recent encounter with Faith – Faith who might as well have rattled the keys to his cell in his face. Today was a day of tests, obviously. But he needed to pass this, so he schooled his mien into calm impassivity and stood up from the couch. The boy wasn’t the vampire – just as this werewolf wasn’t the smug little prick whose prejudices had doomed the town he was arrogant enough to claim to protect.   
  
Unlike his feelings for the Willow he had come to know here, however, he saw no reason to change his inherent loathing for either of the boys she’d brought with her. He trusted _her_ , but not her boyfriend or friends, and that was the way it would stay. (No, he wouldn’t think about the fact that he had almost characterized her boyfriend as ‘current’ in his thoughts.)  
  
He approached the threesome who had moved to the center of the room "We haven't really been properly introduced, have we?” he said to Oz, extending his hand in greeting. It was the truth, after all. They'd seen each other on two occasions, but they'd had yet to speak to each other.  
  
“Oz,” the boy said, taking his hand and narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. Was this creature sizing him up?  
  
Liam nodded, wondering why the boy assumed he didn't know his name. “You guys sounded pretty good last night.” Compliments were a time-tested way to disarm an antagonist.   
  
Willow smiled happily. “See? I told you,” she whispered in Oz’s ear. This was working out so well. She just knew Oz and Liam would be friends.  
  
“So, how’s Sunnydale treating you so far?” Xander asked. Willow beamed at him, appreciating that he was making an effort.  
  
Okay, Liam didn’t seem too excited to meet Xander. Guess she could understand that, but hey! He forgave _her_ so he and Xander could get along too. At least she sure hoped so.  
  
Thankfully, after a really long moment, Liam answered, “Fine. So far all I’ve seen is the Bronze, but it’s nice.”  
  
“Well, you’ve seen the best nightlife – actually, pretty much the _only_ nightlife – that Sunnydale has to offer. Unless you count Willy’s.”  
  
Liam’s ears picked up at that, but he said nothing. Nice to know, though, in case he wanted to try and score some blood that was a little better vintage than could be found in Angel’s fridge. “I gathered that,” he replied, hopefully not a beat too late as he feared.  
  
“There’s other stuff to see though, and…” Willow paused for a moment as though she was trying to think of something. “Maybe you’d like to patrol some night. I mean, Buffy’s pretty much been sticking with Faith lately, but hey, with you joining us, she might not mind us tagging along.” Her expression turned sheepish as she glanced at the others. “I’ve kind of missed it.”  
  
The look on Willow’s face… Had he ever felt such naïve longing to go out and just do good? If he had, it had been a while. Still, the suggestion was serendipitous. Hadn't he just been pondering finding a way to get into the thick of things? This patrol was just the ticket. It would give him a chance to hone his fighting skills again and get the lay of the demonic land here, not to mention solidify his friendship with Willow. “Sounds great,” he said, smiling widely and with a sincerity he hoped was believable.  
  
Angel smiled as well, though nowhere near as broadly. Willow’s idea was really a good one and again he found himself feeling like a jerk for not coming up with it himself. With everything that was going on in this town lately, an extra pair of skilled hands would do no end of good. And a well-guided patrol would give him the perfect chance to size up Liam, see what he was made of and assure himself that Buffy’s misgivings were unfounded. But… he wasn’t sure he was ready to see Faith, who was likely to be with Buffy. Who knew how she’d act? So, while taking along two humans wasn’t optimal as far as he was concerned, he figured that with three demons…“Why don’t we all go as a team now? I have plenty of weapons and we can cover the east side before Buffy has a chance to get there.”  
  
“Great!” Willow chirped. The other two nodded and Angel headed for his weapons chest. Off they were going. Hopefully, when next he saw Faith, she’d have gotten her head on straight.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	11. Chapter Ten

Feral (Chapter Ten)  
  
  
  
Even though this had sort of been Willow’s idea, it was pretty weird being on patrol without Buffy. Okay, yeah, they had done it when she had left town for that one summer – the summer Willow had spent missing her best friend like crazy and worrying all the time and trying hard to pretend that everything was okay and Buffy would be back ‘tomorrow’, except that tomorrow took a really long time to come and… Yes, her thoughts were rambling, but this was one really awkward patrol. Was it Angel or Liam who made it feel so much more serious? Both of them, probably. “Any sign of anything?” she asked softly of no one in particular, mostly because the silence was making her twitch. All she’d heard for the last five minutes were her and Xander’s footsteps. None of the others made a sound; not even when they stepped on leaves. Usually she only thought of Angel and Oz having the whole ‘no words or facial expressions’ thing in common, but not tonight. Now she was reminded that she and Buffy were both dating outside their species.  
  
“Nothing so far,” Liam replied. He was disappointed, to be honest. He was itching to establish himself at the top of the food chain in this brave, new world, an itch that grew stronger the more time he spent watching that scrawny werewolf hold Willow’s hand and feeling Xander’s eyes on him.   
  
What do you know? Wishes really did come true. “There’s something…” he said, voice low, though he knew that was for show. Whatever presence he sensed knew they were there.   
  
Seconds later, a group of large, scaly, green demons was upon them.  
  
Angel hoisted the axe he’d brought, thanking whatever deity wouldn’t be offended by the gratitude of a vampire that it had occurred to him that there might be things other than vampires about tonight. Blame it on the strange vibes he and Buffy had both been picking up since the Mayor had popped up on their radar. He was gratified to see the others get their weapons ready, following his lead, and with that, he engaged one of the demons.   
  
Oh god. Why had she chosen a crossbow? Okay, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but right now Willow was thinking that one of those swords like the one Xander was flailing away with would have been a better idea – at least she might have bought a few more precious seconds of life before winding up where she was right now: in the clutches of a demon and feeling a sharp (and scarily familiar) pain that she was pretty sure foretold the snapping of her neck any moment now.   
  
Where was Oz? She wanted to see Oz’s face just once more before she died. Oh how she wished they’d made love. Of all the things she was missing out on by dying before she even graduated high school, that was number one on the list of regrets.   
  
  
Liam had just dispatched one of the creatures when he caught sight of Willow out of the corner of his eye – Willow being held in a death grip by one of the green bastards.   
  
In an instant he was there, grabbing the demon and freeing its hostage before gripping _it_ ‘round the neck from behind… For a moment he permitted himself to enjoy the creature’s pain and fear, allowing it to struggle – his own nostrils filled with the residue of Willow’s terror, a terror that made him long to torture this demon for hours. But since that wasn’t an option, he at least wanted this piece of garbage to know exactly what was about to happen to it.   
  
Willow stared up from the ground in confusion, barely processing the change in her circumstances. A second ago, she’d been saying goodbye to everyone she loved and now… now Liam was tearing the head off of the demon who’d been about to kill her.  
  
Literally.  
  
He was in game face and he was terrifying but he’d just saved her life and… Was this what being about to faint felt like?   
  
“Willow!!”   
  
She could hear Oz’s voice, but it sounded like he was so far away. He was still battling one of the demons, along with Xander, and she was terrified that she was distracting him. “I’m okay!” she yelled.   
  
Liam watched for a moment as the demon he’d just killed began to dissolve into steaming green slime; then he went to Willow. “Are you sure you’re all right?” He paid no attention to the battles still going on around them, though he supposed he should. Instead of going to the aid of the others, however, he helped Willow to her feet.  
  
“Thanks,” she said, those big, emerald eyes fixed on his. They were the real difference, weren’t they? No savage, wanton cruelty in their depths. No gold beneath the jade. Just innocence and purity and…  
  
It hit him now – that thing he’d been avoiding. That impossible thing.  
  
He wanted her. (Maybe it was more than that, but he was already facing a truth too strange and frightening to bear.) He wanted her. Truly and actually and not just in the chaos of dreams.  
  
“Stay here.”  
  
The words were an order and Willow didn’t think she should disobey the guy who’d just saved her life. She was just grateful that now he was going to go make sure everyone else survived this battle too. Those demons were tough – and there seemed to be so many of them. She considered trying again with the crossbow, but she was still pretty freaked out by her latest near death experience and she was terrified she’d accidentally send a bolt through Liam’s heart – or Angel’s. So she stayed where she was and wished her magic was way further along. If she were any sort of witch, she could just zap those demons straight to goo, but no… All she could do was float pencils. Oh, and restore souls, but that really wouldn’t be much use right now, would it?  
  
It hurt, standing on the sidelines helplessly while everyone else was in danger, knowing that she was nothing but a liability. She got it – finally. This was why Buffy preferred patrolling with just Faith. Funny how she’d never seen it this clearly before.   
  
Angel dispatched the demon he was fighting with a sharp swing of his axe and cheated a glance over to where Willow was standing. She was all alone and safe for now. Good. There were three – scratch that, _two_ , thanks to an axe strike by Liam - more of these nasty creatures, but they were occupied and Willow seemed well out of danger. He was glad Liam had gotten to her in time. Guess he’d really been wrong to worry that his twin harboured any lingering resentment towards her. Buffy would be relieved.  
  
But now was not the time for reflection – there were still, after all, two demons to be dealt with. He rushed over to where Xander and Oz were keeping one at bay. Time to get back to work.  
  
Liam spotted Angel heading to the rescue of the two pathetic boys and he fractionally relaxed. He could dally a bit with this last demon, make things a bit more interesting. He had tension he needed to deal with and what better place than in battle? “Wanna play?”   
  
  
  
If there was anything Buffy hated more than seeing her boyfriend kissing – okay, being kissed _by_ – another woman, it was… No, actually, she didn’t hate fruitless patrols nearly as much – or at all, most nights – it was just…   
  
Couldn’t there be at least one vampire out here for her to kill or something? Guess not. Tonight, Sunnydale seemed to be as demon free as… oh… _Cleveland_ or some other normal place like that. Usually she’d be happy about that. Not tonight  
  
Should she just give up and go see Angel, ask him about Faith, see what he said? She’d seem jealous then, though, and that was… Wrong. No. Because the last thing she wanted was to seem insecure. That wasn’t who she was. She was Buffy Summers, Slayer – confident, strong, independent, powerful – not some girl from those 1950’s movies she watched with her Mom; the ones where a girl’s whole life revolved around some guy and she spent every waking moment afraid she was losing him to some girl whose sweater was tighter and who wore leather pants and said meaningless things like ‘five by five’ and…  
  
Oops. In the words of Giles, the subtext was rapidly becoming text, wasn’t it?  
  
So okay, she was insecure and she was scared that Angel had the hots for Faith. That didn’t mean she had to broadcast it. And by ‘broadcast it’, she meant let Angel know just how terrified she was that he was about to leave her for a girl with whom he did, after all, have more in common.   
  
She kicked a rock, watching as it bounced off a tombstone, hoping something would rise from the dirt, but no, nothing. With a heavy sigh, she decided to go home. Maybe she would call Willow. No, Willow was probably with Oz tonight. At least she hoped so, because her friend had spent way too much time with Liam lately. Now _that_ was something she wanted to talk about. She couldn’t though, could she? Not without some solid proof that Liam wasn’t exactly housebroken. Well at least that was something she could focus on that wasn’t Angel.  
  
Except for the part where it looked a whole lot like him.  
  
Buffy sighed again. The universe just wasn’t going to give her a break, was it?  
  
  
  
“Thank you,” Willow told Liam. She was pretty sure she’d said it before but when someone saved your life, it merited more than one thank you, didn’t it?   
  
“Yeah, thanks,” Oz added. He was looking at Liam but he was gripping her hand tightly. She squeezed back to reassure him. She was okay. Liam had killed the demon and she was alive and well.   
  
They were walking along a street in a part of town Willow hadn’t come to very often. Weird when you thought about it since Sunnydale wasn’t all that big. She really needed to venture out more, to not be so cocooned. What was she going to do when she went away to college if she was afraid to explore the boundaries of her own hometown?  
  
Oh god. What was going to happen to her and Oz when she went away to college?   
  
Angel’s own version of Buffy’s ‘spider senses’ were tingling and he didn’t know why. What he did know was that he was damn glad Liam had been with him and the others on patrol tonight. Those demons had been tough and dangerous. He wished he knew what they were. Wait a minute. There was one person here who did more research than even he did. “Willow, do you know what kind of demon those were?”  
  
“Huh?” She’d obviously been lost in thought. Not surprising since she’d nearly died, so he repeated the question. “Oh sorry,” she said. “I… Oh! Yeah. I remember now. I saw a picture of them in the Marenschadt Text. Glovaks? I think that’s what they were called, anyway. I only saw the entry once. They head to where large scale massacres are about to occur. It’s… it’s sort of weird that they attacked us, actually, because I seem to remember the book saying that they’re pretty much like vultures. They pick at the carcasses and stuff of all the people who get massacred in the… in the massacre.”  
  
“Is it just me or does that not sound good?” For once, Angel agreed with Xander.   
  
Liam said nothing. He wasn’t going to acknowledge that the boy was right in any way. After the fight, he was completely confirmed in his belief that, unlike Willow, there was little difference between the Xander Harris walking just ahead of Willow and the creature he’d been in Liam’s world. A coward and a cretin before he was turned and underneath… Yeah, underneath, he was sure, were the layers of sadism and petty cruelty unleashed by the demon.   
  
What did it all mean? Were he and Willow the only ones who were completely unlike their counterparts?  
  
Of course, there was a matter of more immediate concern. Scratch that, there were _two_ matters of pressing concern, he realized, his eyes falling on a pair of distant figures across the wide street. He recognized one, and while he didn't know why he was so wary, he knew to trust his instincts. “Get out of sight,” he hissed. Thankfully, everyone obeyed and they all ducked into a blessedly convenient alley.  
  
Faith. Angel was shocked to see her in this part of town, far from her motel room or the patrol he’d supposed her to be on with Buffy. But what was more shocking was who she was having what looked to be a very friendly conversation with. “The Mayor,” he said softly. The others stared, squinting, but their vision wasn’t nearly as sharp as that of him or Liam. He wondered if Faith would be able to see who _they_ were. Slayer eyesight was better than normal, but was it as good as that of a vampire? He was grateful that, for the moment, they were tucked behind this alley wall.  
  
“Is that really the Mayor?” Willow asked. It was dark and there was no streetlight where all she could see was two figures standing together. Oh, and one had long hair so she was pretty sure it was female.   
  
“And Faith,” Liam added, chilling the blood in Willow’s veins. She’d been pretty much anti-Faith for a long time, but the idea that Faith would…  
  
“Are we sure they aren’t fighting? Or maybe she’s spying,” she theorized hopefully. How could a Slayer side with the bad guys?  
  
“She’s with him,” Angel said, the words bitter and painful on his tongue as he watched her walk back towards the door of a very expensive apartment building and enter it… with a key. He felt like the biggest fool on the planet. He’d truly believed in her; thought she was genuinely remorseful and that she, like him, sought redemption. All she’d been doing was playing him.   
  
The Mayor got into a large luxury car and drove away… in the opposite direction from the alley.  
  
“We need to tell the Slay… Buffy. We need to tell Buffy,” Liam offered and it reminded Angel that he wasn’t the only one who Faith’s treachery would hurt. What would this do to Buffy? Her sister Slayer in league with the forces of evil. It was bound to be a real blow.  
  
Willow sighed dispiritedly. “I guess there’s no point in me trying to get to those files anymore. I mean, Faith probably told the Mayor all about what I was doing. I’ve been wasting my time.”   
  
“You didn’t know,” Oz said. The slight inflection was his kindly voice, but it didn’t make Willow feel better. She had hated Faith from almost the beginning; she should have figured this out. Guess she really _wasn’t_ evil, was she? Because her vamp self would have been on to Faith from the get go. Well, at least that was an upside to all of this, realizing in her heart that she and her doppelganger were totally different, even if it was a really counterproductive and unhelpful upside.   
  
She turned and saw Xander, his eyes downcast and face all shadowed. Letting go of Oz’s hand, she walked over to the dumpster he was standing next to. “None of us knew,” she said softly.   
  
“Yeah, but none of you had sex with her.”  
  
Liam couldn’t help but hear the conversation a few feet away and his eyes shot wide for a brief second. Before he could stop himself, he hissed, “You and Faith?” Didn’t that just say it all? Once the toadying consort of a psychotic dominatrix… He chuckled, despite himself, though it was acid and angry.   
  
The others all turned to him. “It was before… None of us knew. And Xander was vulnerable,” Willow said, obviously trying to defend the boy. She had no idea what he was, did she? Speaking of vulnerable.  
  
Deciding to concede this small battle, he ducked his head in an apologetic manner. “Sorry. It’s just… I met her today and she…,” oh to hell with total concession, “I’m not surprised that she’s the enemy. She’s obviously gotten overconfident and she’s not doing much anymore to hide what she is.”  
  
Angel narrowed his eyes. “What did she say to you?”  
  
“Not much. She just made it pretty clear that she had an itch and wanted me to scratch it. I thought that was a little odd considering she probably knows about the curse and all. She’s too arrogant not to believe she could make someone perfectly happy.”  
  
More humiliation. Angel had been more wrong about Faith then he’d thought. That little scene earlier today… “I think she was trying the same thing with me,” he admitted. “Nothing happened,” he clarified, realizing by the way Willow was looking at him that he’d given the wrong impression, “She just made some moves and… I didn’t think it was anything but a misplaced crush at the time, but now… Now I think she and the Mayor might be looking to have Angelus on their side – either version.”  
  
“This is bad.” Oz was ever the master of understatement.   
  
“We really need to find Buffy – oh, and Giles,” Willow agreed.   
  
“Guess we have to let Wesley in on it, too,” Xander almost spat. “Hey, can a Watcher be fired if their Slayer goes all evil?” Willow almost felt tears in her eyes at Xander’s hopeful expression. He still loved Cordelia in spite of everything and his pain was so fresh.   
  
“You’d think so,” Oz offered and Willow smiled at him. It was great the way he’d forgiven Xander after the stupid fluke. Her boyfriend was perfect, wasn’t he?  
  
Liam looked puzzled. “Who’s Wesley?” Oh gosh! One more thing she had forgotten to tell him about. Speaking of people who weren’t perfect, Willow was really sucking as Liam's guide to life in this world.   
  
“He’s Faith’s Watcher. He’s supposed to be Buffy’s too, on account of Giles getting fired by the Watchers Council, but Buffy doesn’t really listen to him. None of us do, actually.”  
  
“Because he’s a prissy, incompetent, British pedophile,” Xander interjected.  
  
Willow shot him a look full of compassion. “That’s the gist of it,” she concluded.   
  
“Well whoever he is, if he has to be in the loop, he has to be. I just think we need for Buffy to know as soon as possible so she doesn’t share any more secrets with the enemy.”   
  
“Agreed,” Angel said. “I’ll call and see if she’s at home yet, have her call Giles and Wesley, and they can meet us at the library.”  
  
Willow nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds like a plan.” She fished in her pocket and found two quarters. Yay. “Do we know if there’s a payphone anywhere around here?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	12. Chapter Eleven

Feral (Chapter Eleven)  
  
  
  
“This is… Liam, I presume?”  
  
Buffy fought back the urge to laugh at Wesley’s twitching and obvious nerves. She might not like Liam much, but at least she wasn’t so afraid of him that she wouldn’t even shake his hand. What was the Council thinking when they made this guy a Watcher?   
  
“The obvious resemblance to Angel sort of gives it away,” she quipped.  
  
“Yes, well… May I ask why Faith isn’t here? If this is as important as we’ve been told then surely she should…”  
  
“She’s working with the Mayor,” Angel interrupted. Wesley began to splutter and puff out his chest in that affected way of his; it would have been amusing if Buffy weren’t in such obvious pain. Giles just stood there, his expression unreadable. Maybe he’d been suspicious of her before now. That would make one of them, at least.   
  
Buffy spoke. Just one word but it was filled with all the anguish Angel had seen in her eyes. “She’s…?”  
  
He went to her and put his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “We saw them. They were… pretty chummy.” When they were alone, he’d tell her that she wasn’t the only one who felt betrayed.   
  
“How can you be sure? Perhaps she was gathering intelligence.”  
  
Willow shook her head, embarrassed that she’d proposed the very same theory not long ago. It was for a different reason though; she could at least feel better about that. Wesley just never wanted to acknowledge that Angel was their ally and he’d come up with any hypothesis as long as it meant not taking Angel’s word for something. Well, okay, maybe he wouldn’t listen to Angel, but he was going to listen to _her_. Resolve Face in place, she shot back, “I’m pretty sure that the spying she’s doing is for the other side. Or did she tell you that she moved out of the motel and into some swanky apartment on the other side of town and you just didn’t bother to share?”  
  
Wesley suddenly and heavily sat in one of the ugly oak library chairs without another word.  
  
“She’s one of them now. She’s one of the things we fight.” Buffy’s voice was soft and uninflected, the way it always was when her heart was breaking and Willow felt her own heart ache with compassion… and rage. Faith was a Slayer. That was supposed to _mean_ something – something important and transcendent and special. But what did Miss Five by Five do? She threw it all away and her sacred duty along with it. Willow hated her more than ever now.  
  
“Did she see you?” Giles asked.  
  
“No,” Liam answered, refusing to remain in the background. “We hid in time.”  
  
“And you’re sure about that?” Despite the fact that the question was perfectly logical, the man’s doubts brought back memories of his counterpart’s refusal to help Liam stop the Harvest and he could feel the anger rise within him.  
  
Angel answered before he could. “Yes.”   
  
“Positive,” Liam affirmed. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be shoved back into the shadows.   
  
“Liam told us all to hide before they could spot us.” Willow’s support… It was both cheering and unsettling, the latter because of the feelings he could no longer pretend not to understand.   
  
Buffy’s eyes locked on Liam as Willow spoke. She hated that she had to consider him an ally in this, but she did – because he _had_ helped, apparently. There were more immediate problems, she realized, than her dislike of Liam anyway. Faith was more evil than she’d thought. Not only had she put the moves on Angel, she was in league with a bad guy whose goals they weren’t even completely sure of yet… and she’d by now informed him of every move they’d made and every piece of information they’d gathered. This was bad. This was very, very bad.  
  
“I guess there’s no point in asking if you found anything in the Mayor’s files,” she said to Willow, who looked glum and shook her head. “Not your fault,” she added in an attempt at comfort. “None of us realized we had a mole.”  
  
“So, fearless leader, any ideas as to what we’re going to do?” Xander asked. Buffy fought back a chuckle when he immediately turned to Wesley and said, “Note my use of the word ‘fearless’. Obviously I wasn’t talking to you.” Naturally, Wesley did that prissy, collar-straightening thing, but other than a few disgruntled noises, he had nothing to say.  
  
“There’s a great deal we need to think about,” Giles offered. “I think that, for the time being, we should all continue to act as if we know nothing. More harm than good could be done by alerting her to our awareness of her duplicity.”  
  
“I agree,” Wesley added, though no one cared, except for the part where Buffy was glad she didn’t have to tie him up and throw him in a closet to keep him from spilling the beans to Faith. She was too tired and depressed for that right now.  
  
“Is there anything we should do? Research?” Willow felt useless right now and she hated it.  
  
Giles gave her that fatherly half-smile that usually made her feel at least a little bit better. And it worked this time, but not as much as she wished it did. “No. I think for now you ought to just go home and get some rest. I am going to accompany Buffy to Willie’s and see if we have any luck in finding that demon with the Books of Ascension. Should we able to get to him before Faith has a chance…”  
  
“That would be a win for our side,” Oz finished for him.   
  
“Yes, yes it would.” Giles seemed distracted – he had this whole time, actually – and Willow wondered about that, but it was late and he’d probably been sleeping when he’d been awakened and ordered to the library. Yeah, that was probably it.  
  
“We have to go get Oz’s van,” Willow remembered, realizing that it was back at Angel’s house.   
  
Angel traded looks with Buffy and he wished there was a way he could invite himself along with her and Giles on their quest for the Books. Come to think of it, maybe there was. “Come on,” he told the others. “We should get back.” He hurried Willow, Oz, Liam, and Xander out the door. Once safely away from the library, and Wesley, he stopped. “I’m gonna do a little nosing around before daylight.” Before anyone could ask a question or voice an objection, he was gone.  
  
  
  
Buffy was just about to get into Giles’s ridiculous (and slow) car when she heard Angel’s voice. “Hey.”  
  
“Hey,” she replied. She was feeling a whole lot of complicated things about Angel right now, but love was still number one among all of them. Besides, the whole ‘Faith-kissing’ issue was pretty much moot now that Faith had turned traitor. “I thought you were going home.” She looked around for the others and was puzzled when she saw no one.  
  
“I sent them on without me.”  
  
“Are you sure that was wise?” Giles asked, echoing Buffy’s own concerns.   
  
“Liam’s with them. They’ll be fine.”  
  
“But…”  
  
“Liam’s a good fighter. We got ambushed by a bunch of demons tonight. He saved Willow’s life.” He hoped this was enough to set Buffy’s mind at ease about Liam as well. With Faith revealed as the enemy, they had more than enough problems to deal with without conflict within the ranks.  
  
“He saved Willow’s life?” The wheels were obviously turning behind Buffy’s eyes and Angel reached for her hand. “Willow’s life had to be saved?”  
  
“She’s okay,” he reminded her.   
  
“For which we are very grateful,” Giles responded. He stood for a moment and then looked around. Angel wondered why but then Giles spoke again. “I’m glad you’re here actually. I had intended to discuss something with Buffy and have her relay… But it concerns you most of all so I am relieved to be able to talk to you myself.”  
  
The tone of Giles’s voice was ominous and Buffy picked up on that as well. “What is it?”  
  
“I received a visit earlier tonight from an old…well, calling him a friend might be a bit of a misnomer, but…”  
  
“It wasn’t Ethan Rayne, was it?” Buffy asked suspiciously.   
  
Giles seemed exasperated as he replied. “No, it wasn’t. If I may continue?” Buffy nodded and Angel waited anxiously to hear what this was about. Giles was staring straight at him now. “This visitor… He’s been summoned by the Mayor to take your soul.”  
  
  
  
Oz was holding Willow’s hand as they walked back towards the mansion and Liam wanted to snap his neck. What did she see in him? He’d been useless tonight when she was in danger. It had been Liam who’d come to her rescue; Liam who had saved her life. In the Sunnydale he knew, those things would have been paramount.  
  
It was different here though, wasn’t it? More like the world he remembered from before… before reality had compressed in a stunningly short time to a few square miles bordered by cheerful signs which belied the town whose boundaries they marked… before reality had become damp stone walls and a cold bitch forcing him inside a body almost as icy, letting her consort…  
  
No, he wasn’t going to think about those things now. Not with Xander a few feet away. Xander, within whom he could see…   
  
Willow spoke up. “Boy, tonight was pretty intense, wasn’t it?” As shrewd observations went, it wasn’t so much with the shrewd as the painfully obvious, but the silence had been bothering her and she had to say _something_.  
  
Oz smiled at her. “It was that.”   
  
“What is with me and evil girls?” Xander asked out of nowhere. Willow almost winced, but caught herself in time, not wanting to remind Oz of her recent indiscretion. Still, with proof of just how evil a version of her could be walking right alongside them, Xander’s words cut into her spirit.   
  
Liam stayed silent, wondering about the plural form Xander had used, but not caring enough to even consider asking Willow later. He disliked (hated) Xander, but at least having seen him in battle tonight reassured him that, for the time being, the boy was no threat to him. Why bother paying him any mind or wasting a moment’s thought on him?  
  
Ignoring Xander completely, he asked Willow, “Do you know what they’re going to do about her? About Faith?”  
  
“No. But I’m sure that’s why Giles wanted to go with Buffy. They’ll think of something. They always do.”   
  
She seemed utterly confident; Liam didn’t share her conviction, but he didn’t say anything to that effect, instead responding with, “I’m sure they will.”  
  
“Now if we can just keep Wesley from screwing everything up,” Xander offered.  
  
As much as agreeing with Xander stuck in his craw, Liam had to concede that the boy’s assessment of the other Watcher was right in line with his own. It didn’t take more than ten seconds to realize that the man was an incompetent clown whose status was an absolute mystery, even by his own rather low standards for anyone and anything to do with the Watchers Council.   
  
“You don’t think he’ll say anything to Faith, do you?” Willow asked, suddenly very concerned.  
  
“Even Wesley wouldn’t be that stupid.” Oz was trying to reassure her, but Willow wasn’t sure she believed him. Oh, she wanted to, but it was Wesley and it was easy to see him running off to confront Faith just because Giles had said not to. That was absolutely the kind of thing Wesley would do, just to try and show that he was in charge.  
  
“Oh. We’re here,” Willow said, spotting Oz’s van. Boy it sure seemed like they’d gotten here fast.  
  
“You should get some rest,” Liam said. The comment was meant for Willow. She’d nearly been killed tonight. Unbidden, an image of her in his bed came to him and he ruthlessly tamped it down. Oz was pathetic, but Liam still didn’t want to chance him figuring out that his feelings for Willow were no longer platonic. “We all should,” he added. “We’ll do a better job of dealing with Faith if we’re sharp.”  
  
“Yeah. I second that,” Xander said, wincing as he stretched his arms slightly. Obviously, he was still not recovered from the injuries he’d sustained making an ass of himself in the battle earlier tonight. How had the boy lasted this long? Further proof that this was not the same Sunnydale from whence he came, he supposed.  
  
“Good night.” Liam turned and headed to the house.   
  
Willow watched him as he walked away. Should she have said thank you again? Probably, so she’d make sure and say it the next time she saw him. Gosh was she ever glad he had been on patrol with them tonight. “He’s really good at the demon-fighting, huh?”   
  
“Yeah,” Oz said quietly before kissing her cheek. He seemed pensive all of a sudden.   
  
“Lucky for you he was there, Will,” Xander added and she saw Oz wince.  
  
Oh god. She felt really bad right now. “You were dealing with the meanest one, so it’s a good thing he was there to help.” Did that sound like she was trying too hard?  
  
Oz didn’t say anything. Instead, it was all quiet on the werewolf front as they got into the van. First stop: Xander’s house. Once they were alone, she was going to do her very best to smooch Oz better.  
  
  
  
Forgoing a trip to the kitchen for some blood, Liam’s first destination was the shower. Yes, he was a bit dirty from the fight, but more importantly, he had some tension he needed to deal with.  
  
He wanted Willow – shocking since he could honestly say the same had never been true for the creature whose physical appearance was so much like hers. Sure, torture and his own will to survive had conditioned his body to respond to her whims, but that was in no way the same thing as actual desire, something he realized all the more by experiencing desire now.   
  
Quickly shedding his clothes and thanking Angel for at least having a modern and efficient water heating system in this anachronistic pile, Liam stepped under the shower spray, letting one sensual experience fuel fantasies of another.  
  
 _He stepped out of the shower, dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. No point in putting his clothes on; he was going to bed.  
  
Emerging from the bathroom, he was stunned to see that there was someone in his room. “Willow?” he asked, scarcely believing his eyes. Hadn’t she gone home?  
  
“Hey.” Her voice trembled as she spoke and she was staring at him…eyes focused on that towel. Had she ever seen a man this close to naked before? He supposed he’d assumed she had – she had a boyfriend after all – but he didn’t think so now.  
  
“I thought you left with Oz and Xander.”  
  
“I…ummm… I wanted to thank you. For saving my life, I mean. So…uhh… thank you. I guess I should go now, huh?” But her feet didn’t move. She stayed right where she was. Standing next to the bed.  
  
Her immobility emboldened him and he approached her. “You already thanked me. Earlier tonight.” His voice was low as he reached out to stroke her cheek.  
  
“I know but…”  
  
“I saved your life,” he said, “And you think I deserve something more.”  
  
“Uh huh,” she said softly, cheeks scarlet and eyes now firmly fixed on the floor.   
  
Her confirmation went straight to his cock; he leaned in and kissed her – softly at first, but that didn’t last. He wasn’t her timid wolf. It took a moment, but then her arms wound around him, her hands splayed against his back.  
  
The heat of her skin was a drug and he was flying high. Had he ever felt like this? He didn’t think so. “I want you.” His words seemed to break the spell for a moment, but he kissed her again and that made things right. His own hands roamed over her body, moving down to… she seemed to balk again. He tilted her head up and stared into her eyes. “You came to me,” he reminded her.  
  
“I know.” She was shy, he reminded himself. Shy and, for all the fumbling she might have done with her wolf, an innocent.  
  
“You’ll enjoy this. I promise,” he soothed her. Now he kept his eyes locked on hers, his hands moving to the buttons of her blouse.  
  
“I…”  
  
“Shhh…” He put a finger to her lips and she stopped speaking. Then he went back to the very pleasant work of disrobing her. So many differences between her and her counterpart – the glow of life, the tiny freckles, the softer pink of the nipples revealed as he unhooked her bra. “So beautiful,” he murmured and she flushed more deeply; one more delicious difference. His fingers moved to the button of her jeans and her breath hitched. Not a word of protest however and he pushed the garment down her legs, gratified when she finished the work of removing them.  
  
Now she stood before him wearing nothing but white cotton panties through which he spied a further difference. Unlike the vampire, she didn’t shave. He was glad of that. It was better for her to be completely unlike the other. He waited and at last she removed the last of her clothing and he saw those red curls in all their glory. While he had no idea how he could feel this way given what he’d been through, he knew he wanted Willow more than he’d ever wanted anyone before.  
  
He removed the towel and enjoyed her gasp as his own body came into full view. No, he was nothing like her puny boyfriend. Saying nothing, he led her to the bed and kissed her again before guiding her down onto it. She was becoming aroused by him and he drank in her scent; he wanted her to enjoy this as much as he would.  
  
Beside her now, he kissed her more deeply, his fingers finding their way between her legs, making sure she was ready for him. For a moment he thought of warning her that this would likely hurt, but he knew that would only distract her and might make it even more uncomfortable for her. Instead, he positioned himself at her entrance and then thrust inside, tearing through her innocence in one stroke.  
  
She cried out and there were tears, but he soothed her. “Shh… it will be all right. I promise.” He suited the action to the tune, working his hand between them and finding her clitoris, even as he kept moving inside her.   
  
If the heat of her hands had been intoxicating, being inside her was the most addictive experience he’d ever known. He wished there was a way for this to go on forever, but he was lost to the pleasure and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. He was gratified that his touch was working on Willow’s body, bringing her along with him – she was meeting his thrusts, her walls tightening around him. She was almost there… so was he. “Tell me,” he cried hoarsely, “tell me you love me.”_  
  
Surrounded by steam and tile, Liam came hard, the reality that he was alone washing over him like the hot water of the shower, but this was anything but release. He couldn’t hide from the truth now, not the way he had the first time he'd indulged himself in this fashion. He didn’t just want Willow, did he?   
  
He finished washing himself off, perfunctorily and with alacrity, and then he turned off the shower. After drying off, he left the towel in the bathroom. In reality, after all, there was no Willow in his bedroom.  
  
Sleep. He needed sleep. There were important things to do tomorrow, like deal with what Faith was up to with the Mayor. His feelings for Willow were a complication he didn’t need.  
  
But they were there, though, weren’t they?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	13. Chapter Twelve

Feral (Chapter Twelve)  
  
  
  
“So she got the Books before you could get them, huh?”  
  
Buffy’s sigh was her answer to Willow’s question. Of course, she’d been pretty sure Faith had already tracked the demon down, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been disappointed when she – with Faith in tow to keep up the charade – had walked into the seedy motel room and discovered a dead demon and only one book in the room: the Bible in the nightstand.  
  
Speaking of charades, she wished she could tell Willow about… But she couldn’t. She and Giles and Angel had talked it out and they’d decided that the fewer people who knew the plan, the better. When it was over, she’d apologize if she had to, but this was for the greater good. Willow would understand. She would.  
  
Right?  
  
Maybe it would help her cause later if she said nice things about a certain someone right now. “So. Angel tells me Liam saved your life last night.”  
  
Willow coloured, not really enjoying being reminded that, despite her ardent feminism, she was more damsel in distress than Amazon warrior. Still, at least this was a chance to help Buffy finally realize that Liam was really one of them – the good guys. “He sure did. I totally saw my life flash before my eyes, but then he ripped the demon’s head off and hey – here I am!” She then added, “He killed a few more demons, too. I think he even killed more than Angel did.”  
  
And you know, maybe she shouldn’t have added the part about Liam doing more slaying than Angel. One of these days she was going to learn to think before she spoke. Gosh how she hoped that day was today, or at least tomorrow, because she was getting really tired of saying stuff she shouldn’t. Distraction time. “I saw a picture of those demons in the Marenschadt Text. They’re Glovaks.”  
  
“Glovaks?” Goody! The distraction worked, because Buffy’s brow was furrowed the way it always was when she got thinky.  
  
“Yeah, Glovaks. They’re sort of like vultures. They come around when there’s lots of carnage and they feed on the corpses. Which is why it was really weird that they attacked us ‘cause they’re not big on live prey.” Again – think first! Because of course now they were right back on the subject of the attack itself and the fight in which Liam had outdone Angel. Great job, Willow.  
  
As much as Buffy didn’t enjoy hearing Willow talk about Liam outfighting Angel, she was more concerned about new creatures in town looking for a major collection of dead bodies. This did not bode well and she really, really wished she’d gotten her hands on those Books of Ascension. If only she’d taken that demon more seriously from the beginning… Though, in her defense, would anyone have taken someone seriously if they were wearing _that_ hat? C’mon – Whistler had been better dressed.  
  
And yes, obviously this had been a lesson in not judging a book by its cover.  
  
“We really need intel on the Mayor and fast,” she sighed. “If only I hadn’t been so determined to believe that Faith really wanted to get back on the straight and narrow, I’d have seen this coming.”  
  
“No one could have known she'd do this.” Willow was gazing at her in that reassuring ‘Willow’ way and Buffy wanted to believe her, but she knew better.  
  
“No, I could have. I just…” Here was a chance to unburden herself of at least one troubling secret. “I saw her kiss Angel yesterday.”  
  
“What? No! I can’t believe he would…”  
  
Willow seemed ready to reach for a stake so Buffy hastened to finish explaining, “No, no, not like that, just… She kissed him on the cheek, it’s just…”  
  
“I hope he’s had his rabies shots,” Willow replied, shuddering. “What did he say when you guys talked about it?”  
  
“Ummm… you mean when I stood there with him face to face and told him I saw her kiss him? Uh…”  
  
Okay, Willow spoke ‘Buffy’ well enough to know what that meant. “So I take it that means you didn’t actually say anything to him.” She shook her head. “Buffy, you can’t just keep these things inside.”  
  
“I know. It just seemed sort of pointless after we found out Faith had gone completely over to the dark side.”  
  
“But it’s not pointless if it’s still bugging you.” It occurred to Willow that this had made Buffy’s morning even harder than just the 'being with a traitor part' would have been. “Oh God. How did you handle being around her today? Do you think she knows we know?” Something else occurred to Willow as well and she made a conversational left turn before Buffy could even answer her question. “I know, you know. What it’s like, I mean. Having someone right there in front of you who’s the evil version of you. I think it’s really amazing that you could be in the same room with her and pretend you didn’t know what she is, act like you were still partners in slaying. I don’t think I could have done that.”  
  
It was weird, Buffy hadn’t thought about that – not consciously – but when Willow spoke, she realized that the fear had been there, deep down, all the while. And Willow got it, which just made Buffy feel so much worse about what she was doing even now. More than anything she wanted to open up and tell Willow what was going on, to let her in on the trap they were setting, but she couldn’t. She’d promised Giles and she’d promised Angel and… the truth was that Willow was dead-on with the self-analysis: she was no good at pretending and if she knew and happened to be around too soon… No, Buffy just had to keep right on keeping secrets.  
  
There were times when focusing on the greater good really sucked. “Thanks, Will,” she choked out.  
  
“Do we have a plan yet?”  
  
Why? Why did Willow have to ask _that_ question? Boy the universe was testing her right now. “Not yet. Giles says to just play dumb for the time being.”  
  
Luckily, Willow didn’t seem to think that was as unlikely as it sounded. Even more luckily, Willow’s mind was racing ahead to some sort of research-y goal. “Ooh! I have an idea!” she exclaimed cheerfully, “Oz and I could go down to the Hall of Records to see what we could dig up on the Mayor!”  
  
“That’s terrific,” Buffy responded, trying hard not to sound as guilty and horrible as she felt. “You grab Oz and get over there and I’ll go tell Giles what’s up.”  
  
  
  
Night had just fallen and Angel was scared – scared like he hadn’t been since he’d found himself in Hell. What if Giles’s friend turned out to be as faithless as Faith? What if something went horribly wrong?  
  
Too late to turn back now, because she was here. “Faith,” he said evenly as she entered.  
  
“Hey. Sorry to bust in uninvited.” How did she do it? Look for all the world like a tortured child when she was anything but? Drusilla’s most skillful simulation of innocence couldn’t approach this girl’s act.  
  
Well, she wasn’t the only actor in the room and he’d been doing it for longer… and he wasn’t as crazy as his creation either. That would undoubtedly help. “What do you want?”  
  
“Look, I'm not so good at apologies. Mostly because I think the world's out to screw me so I'm generally more owed than owing. But I've been thinking about last night and I want you to know I’m really sorry.” Sorry for what? For selling out the whole world? Or just sorry because you didn’t get to do some screwing of your own with a vampire last night?  
  
Angel schooled his visage carefully, giving away none of his feelings of anger and betrayal…or his terror. “It’s all right, Faith.”  
  
“No, it's not alright. Yeah, I was freaked and needed somebody, but you're with Buffy. I should know better.” Out came the pout, the supposed-to-be-subtle swing of the hips, the ‘please-fuck-it-all-better-you-big-strong-man’ eyes… Faith was pulling out all the stops. Guess she wanted one more shot at getting the soul out of him the old-fashioned way. Still, the way she said Buffy’s name – yeah, he felt a brief twinge of sympathy. What Faith was doing was unforgiveable, but living in Buffy’s shadow…it had to be a difficult thing.

Now wasn’t the time for this. Faith was the enemy and he could worry about her motives later. Right now, he needed to keep his eye on the bigger picture – and remember the fact that she wanted to remove his soul. She was in no way his friend anymore. “Yeah okay.” He almost blew it when he jerked back reflexively at her approach.

Luckily she read it as fear of her feminine wiles…which he supposed was true after a fashion. “You don’t trust me.” Her tone was husky and it was clear that by ‘me’ she meant ‘yourself.’

“It’s not that.”

“Hey, no problem. Join the club.” There was the wounded bird again. She turned away.

Approaching her, he cloaked himself in his best aura of compassion. “Look, Faith. I know what you're going through, alright, and how hard it can be. It's important you have somebody who's been there and who understands what you're going through.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. Something told him that it wouldn’t be long before the fireworks. “Look, I want to trust you.”

He was right. She stepped back before pulling out a vial and splashing its contents on his chest. Blood. “Chump,” she said just as a tall, blue figure emerged from the shadows and began chanting. The real action had begun.

As blue light surrounded him, it was a relief to realize that the creature was being true to the promise he’d made to Giles: Angel’s soul wasn’t going anywhere. But he still had one question: Why did this phony ritual have to actually hurt?

 

 

Liam awoke from yet another troubled and dream-filled sleep to the crackle of energy filling the house – occult energy that reminded him terrifyingly of the Harvest. What was happening?

Jumping out of bed, he pulled on a pair of pants and began rooting through the drawers and then the closet, desperately searching for a weapon. Why hadn’t he kept the axe he’d used last night? The weapons chest was downstairs – downstairs which was where the energy was focused…

Or should he say ‘had been focused’? Because when he reached out with his senses again, the energy that had pulsed so strongly a couple of moments ago had dwindled down to a faint residue – like the last fading of daylight at sundown. That didn’t mean, however, that everything was okay.

As much as he feared finding out what was going on, he was no craven coward, not even after… he was going downstairs and facing the possibility that his worst fears might come true. He had to. After all, what if this was something he could defeat? In fact, what if it was nothing at all? He remembered that Willow did spells. Maybe she had done one here at the mansion for some reason?

Getting a shirt, he buttoned it and tucked it in before going downstairs.

 

 

Faith was grinding against him, her hand moving to his crotch. It was clear what she expected before they headed off to meet her new boss – and there didn’t seem to be a good excuse for not giving it to her. After all, he was supposed to have already lost his soul. Then he heard Liam’s footsteps. Damn it. He’d been hoping Liam would sleep through this or at least stay upstairs with his computer. He’d planned to tell Faith that Liam was staying elsewhere now – keep him out of this completely. Still, maybe this was a blessing – a way to prove himself and keep Faith from being suspicious about his not ripping her clothes off. He only hoped Liam wouldn’t hold a grudge.

“Well, well,” he chuckled as Liam came into the room. “Look who’s here.”

Liam stared – Angel’s face was that of his demon and Faith’s smile was pure predator. She couldn’t have looked more like his former captor if she dyed her hair. Oh no. What kind of worthless, hormone-driven idiot was Angel anyway? Obviously, despite knowing that Faith was a traitor, he just had to get some. What was he going to do?

He eyed the weapons chest, trying to think of how to get to it. Unfortunately, in doing so, he failed to notice Faith move behind him. He turned the second he realized, but it was too late - he was hit in the head with something heavy.

 

 

“Okay, I’ve heard of having a family resemblance but this is just really carrying it to the extreme,” Willow said as she stared at the two photos of Sunnydale Mayors, one old and one new.

“I’m thinking they’re the same guy,” Oz replied, his monotone more grave than usual. Willow was officially scared now.

“That means he’s either a 100 year old human with the best plastic surgeon ever or he’s…”

“Not human,” Oz finished. Okay, this was worse than she thought – and proof that political involvement in this town was sadly lacking. How come none of the older voters had noticed just how much alike their mayors had been looking all these years?

“We better go tell Giles.” She and Oz raced out to the van. Giles was almost certainly still in the library researching the Ascension.

They didn’t really talk during the ride, guess even she could be too worried to say stuff, but when they were about three quarters of the way there, she finally did say something. “Stop!” Someone had just darted out in front of the van.

“Xander?” she cried as that very person raced to her door and yanked it open.

“Oh God! Am I glad I found you guys!”

“What’s wrong?” Xander looked frantic and Willow’s anxiety level shot through the roof.

“It’s Buffy. I just came from her house and her Mom said she just left with Angel and Faith.”

“But why is that…?”

“Before I tell you exactly why this is so terrible, let me remind you both that I told you so. Many times, in fact.”

“Told us what?”

“Angel’s back to his old self again.”

“Are you sure? I mean how…?”

“The ‘am I sure part’? That would be because he flashed some fang and socked me in the jaw. The ‘how’ part? I really don’t want to think about it, but the fact that he had his hand on Faith’s ass might give us a clue.”

The whole 'Faith' part of the scenario Xander had described was really getting to Willow. “But… but Angel knew. I mean he _knew_. He was with us. He saw that she was a traitor. We all did.” Her mind flashed back to what Buffy had told her earlier and her heart ached.

“Yeah, well maybe he got tired of playing for the home team.”

“Guys. The debate is sort of pointless right now.” Oz was, as always, the voice of reason and Willow reached over and squeezed his hand.

“You’re right. So what do we do? Do we go to Giles?”

“Oh great. More debating. I say we head over to the mansion and rescue Buffy.”

Willow was going to say something about maybe needing more weapons when she glanced in the back of the van. Oz had a whole bunch of stakes there. And a sword. Okay. Guess the weapons thing was taken care of. Seconds later, Xander climbed in and Oz quickly put the van in gear.

As they sped off, something occurred to Willow, though she said nothing: What about Liam?

 

 

Chains. These were familiar – horribly, hideously, frighteningly familiar – and the fact that Buffy was hanging beside him did nothing to quell Liam’s sense of dread. What had he done? Why had he been given a brief glimpse of freedom from tortured captivity only to be dragged back into bondage? A new imprisonment where everything would be worse. Because he would be broken all over again, wouldn’t he? New rules to learn, new masters to satisfy. It was all he could do to hold back a cry of anguish.

“You look pretty comfortable like this,” Angel said with sadistic friendliness as he approached. “But then, you’re used to being a pet, aren’t you, Puppy?”

“Oooh...I've never had a puppy before,” Faith chimed in, joining her new boyfriend.

Angel’s eyes met Liam’s and he struggled to keep them cold and hard. He couldn’t afford to give the game away. Oh how he hoped Liam forgave him after this – especially with what he was about to do. He stepped forward and stroked Liam’s cheek. “You know, I always wanted to pay Soulboy back for being such a pussy. Guess you’ll be the next best thing.” Reaching down, he stroked Liam’s cock. It was a strange and perverse thing, touching a version of himself this way. Somehow it was a relief that his counterpart didn’t respond, but he had an act to maintain. He shook his head and clucked disapprovingly. “Oh, c’mon, boy. You should be trained to perform better than this. Guess Willow and Xander weren’t as good as they should have been. Don’t worry. Once we’ve finished with Buffy, I’ll fix their mistakes. We’re gonna have fun, you and me.”

Planting a quick kiss on his double’s lips, he turned to Buffy, who was staring in what might or might not be actual disgust at what he’d been doing with Liam. Faith, on the other hand? By the smell of her, she hadn’t been disgusted at all. “Glad to see you finally woke up,” he offered cheerily to his girl, hoping he gave away none of his real feelings as he spoke. “This reminds me: You know what I just can't believe? All of our time together and we never tried chains. Well, can't dwell on the past, especially with the future we have ahead. I wonder which one of you bitches will howl the loudest,” he nodded at Liam. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Buffy wasn’t having a hard time pretending to be afraid – because she was. She was seeing the demon in Angel in a way she never had before and it was terrifying. After all, it was one thing when he lost his soul, but now… the tone in his voice when he was threatening Liam, the way he touched him. She was seeing something darker and more evil than she had the whole time Angelus was wreaking havoc and the emotional pain was excruciating.

Now wasn’t the time. There was no room here for the girl who loved Angel. Now was the time for the Slayer. The Chosen One. The only true Slayer in all the world – who was now face to face with her doppelganger. Faith was right in front of her, her breath hot against Buffy’s face. “Bondage looks good on you, B. The outfit's all wrong, but, hey!” Faith was all wanton triumph as she stood, arms akimbo, eyes raking over her, and Buffy suddenly flashed back to dancing with her at the Bronze – wild and free and sharing an identity and an understanding. She shook her head, heedless of what it might convey. Now was _not, not, not_ the time.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” Was she saying it to Faith? To Angel? To herself?

Faith was the one who took ownership of the rebuke. “Really? Weird, because something about all this just feels so right. Maybe it's one of those unhappy childhood things. See, when I was a kid I used to beg my mom for a dog. Didn't matter what kind. I just wanted, you know, something to love.” She turned and kissed Angel, thrusting her tongue into his mouth like she was claiming him, and Buffy ruthlessly tamped down her pain. “A dog's all I wanted. Well, that and toys.” She walked over to a blanket on the floor and lifted it, revealing an array of…

Liam’s eyes went wide with terror as he saw what lay on the blanket before him. He recognized each and every one of the gleaming tools and he had intimate knowledge of what they did. After the first few weeks in the cell, when he’d been given to Willow and Xander for ‘training’… He hadn’t allowed himself to remember those terrible days – not since he’d taught himself to shut down. The reality of his existence after that had been hideous enough. Now all the memories came flooding back. This time, it wasn’t willpower that shut his mind down. He was lost in a world of his own remembered agony and he couldn’t hear a word that the people around him were speaking. All he knew was the fear of what lay ahead. The world was silver and sharp now and its God wore leather.

Inside his mind, a small boy prayed to another God for the blessing of a stake.

 

 

To be continued…


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Feral (Chapter Thirteen)  
  
  
  
Willow, Oz, and Xander jumped out of the van the second Oz stopped it. “Everybody got weapons?” Xander asked – kind of pointlessly since he’d passed them out. Still, Willow held up her stake and Oz held up his sword. “Good. Let’s do this thing.”  
  
For all the bravado he was trying to exude, Xander was obviously scared. Heck, so was Willow. Because, hey, maybe Liam and Buffy had managed to take down Angel and Faith, but what if they hadn’t? After all, Angel and Faith had surprise on their side. Willow took a deep breath. It didn’t help; in fact, it didn’t really feel like she’d gotten any air at all into her lungs.  
  
They’d hurried out of the van, but they approached the house at a much more cautious (okay, _timorous_ ) pace. Oz took point and, surprisingly, Willow found herself edging ahead of Xander to stand right behind him. And no, it didn’t mean she was brave, it just meant… oh heck, she didn’t know what it meant. Maybe she was just trying harder after almost winding up as the special on last night’s demonic dinner menu. Sooner or later she had to become something more valiant than Research Gal/Klutzy Sidekick and there was no time like the present.   
  
If only she could do something more exciting with her magic than float a pencil (the elements thing didn’t count – gosh she missed that comforter).   
  
Refocusing on the task at hand, she gave Oz a quick smile of encouragement before following him down the steps toward the door of Angel’s mansion. “I can fight,” she said under her breath. “I can.”  
  
“You played me! You _played_ me!” Faith’s scream of rage and humiliation echoed off the mansion walls… and then Willow and Oz and Xander burst into the room. What were they doing here? Buffy shook off the question and willed herself back into focus. After all, Faith had a knife in her hand and getting distracted would be a very bad thing.   
  
Faith tossed Angel at the new arrivals and the fight was on.   
  
It had to come to this, didn’t it? Fighting a fellow Slayer – it felt wrong somehow. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to work. Still, a part of Buffy was enjoying this and it scared her. This battle… it was against more than just a traitor, it was against her own jealousy and it was against other things deep down inside herself that she didn’t even want to think about, that she didn’t want to admit existed.   
  
For a moment, a terrifying moment, Faith got the upper hand, then Buffy edged ahead, and then… they were on their knees, knives poised at each other’s throats, dead even. That was almost worse than defeat. The idea that Faith might be her equal disturbed her on every level. Buffy was the _One_ , the Chosen One. Faith was just a clerical error, a paperwork mistake.   
  
That was how this had all come about, wasn’t it? Faith had said as much. And now she had even more unsettling words of wisdom to share. “What are you gonna do, B? Kill me? You become me. You’re not ready for that.” Then there was the shock of a kiss planted on her forehead before Faith added, “Yet,” and ran away before Buffy could even think to try to stop her. What was she going to do now?  
  
This was…wow. She never had any idea. Buffy never said a word today, never gave her a clue. Willow was overwhelmed by what her friend had to deal with all alone as she watched the fight and listened to Angel explain about the scheme that he and Giles and Buffy had come up with in order to find out about the Mayor’s plans. It was so dangerous, but it worked and they won and…  
  
Wait a minute. Liam was still in chains. Why was Liam still in chains? She ran over to him, noticing immediately the vacant expression on his face – no, not vacant, just gone and…terrified. “Liam?” she said. If this was an act, it was better than any Willow had ever seen. “Liam?” She whirled around and addressed Angel. “He knew, right?”  
  
Angel shook his head. Oh God. Liam didn’t know? He must have thought… “Give me the keys! Now!”  
  
Never, not in all the time he’d known her, not even that day in the library when she’d yelled at him, had Angel ever seen anything like the fury he was seeing in Willow’s eyes right now. He was almost afraid of her… he _was_ afraid of her. Probably because she had good reason to be angry, he realized as he looked at Liam, who was obviously traumatized. Damn it. He should have told him what was going on. Why hadn’t he?   
  
But looking at him right now, maybe he knew… The damage – it scared him even more than the rage pouring of Willow. It reminded him of that terrible moment, the moment when Buffy had told him to close his eyes…when she’d run him through…when the portal had swallowed him whole and all he’d known was a fear so paralyzing he’d…   
  
Angel had kept the memory at bay until now. It was somehow worse than anything he’d endured in Hell. Maybe because nothing in Hell was Buffy, and the feel of that sword in his chest… staring into the eyes of the woman he loved…the woman who’d wielded that sword…   
  
He shook his head, as if that could somehow shake the memory right out of his brain. Oh how he wished. But for now he had to at least manage to push it down. Fishing the keys out of his pocket, he approached Willow cautiously, holding them out when he was near enough for her to reach them, but not close enough for her to stake him. She snatched them away without a word of thanks. He didn’t deserve one, but it was still unlike her enough to bring home all the more how very angry she was.  
  
Willow’s hand shook as she put the key in the lock and did her best to unfasten Liam’s chains as quickly as possible. “It’s okay,” she said over and over, “I’m here. You’re safe.” He didn’t seem to hear her. There had to be more to this than just the chains. Turning back to Angel, she hissed, “What did you do to him?” She was surprised and almost frightened by the venom in her own voice, but she was angry and worried.   
  
“I… I had to pretend to be Angelus. I threatened him with… things.” Angel’s voice was shaking. Oh God. Was he scared of her? That wasn’t… Yeah, it was. He _should_ be scared, because at least that showed consciousness of guilt. What he did was so far beyond wrong that Willow couldn’t think of a word for just how terrible it was. Liam didn’t seem to notice that he was no longer chained; he was staring at something only he could see and it was easy to see that he was scared to… well, he was already dead, but still…  
  
“We had to do this, Will,” Buffy chimed in. “It was the only way we could trick Faith into…”  
  
“Bullshit!” Willow cried, stunning herself more than ever with that burst of profanity. “You didn’t have to do this. You could have told Liam – or not done this at all. We could have done… something. Like more research.”  
  
All right, Liam was still shaken up, obviously, and she got that Willow was upset about it, but Buffy had been through so much today and she was not in the mood for a lecture. “Yeah, because you’ve really been a big help with that so far.” She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. It was unfair and okay, yeah, Willow had been unfair too, but that still didn’t make it okay. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… It’s just…”  
  
“I get it.” Willow had turned and was facing Liam, but the tone of her voice told it all. When, Buffy asked herself, was she going to learn to just stop speaking when she was tired or upset? Nothing she said was ever right.   
  
“I really am sorry,” she repeated. “I honestly didn‘t mean it the way it sounded. It’s just… This _was_ the only way. I know you don’t see it right now, but it was. And Liam will be okay, he will.” She decided not to look at him as she said it. No, she didn’t like him any better now, but she did feel pretty bad about what he was going through. Angel had creeped _her_ out and she’d been in on the plan. She decided to refocus on the big picture. “In the meantime, now we know when this Ascension is supposed to be and some of what we’re up against.” Xander walked over and put a supportive arm around her, but it felt hollow with Willow so angry at her.   
  
Willow had stopped listening to Buffy sometime after she said ‘sorry’ for the second time. It didn’t matter, did it? Because Buffy was apologizing to the wrong person. Liam sank to the floor and Willow followed, wrapping her arms around him and murmuring words of comfort. “You’re safe now. I promise. Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.” His eyes seemed to be focusing now, and that was good…or was it? Because now his eyes were focused – only they were focused on Angel and he looked really scared. “He’s not going to hurt you,” Willow asserted, “not anymore.”   
  
It suddenly occurred to her that there was no way Liam could live here anymore, but where… Guess there was an advantage to her parents’ frequent absences, huh? She turned to Angel. “He’s not staying here.”  
  
Everyone was staring at her like she was speaking a foreign language and she couldn’t figure out why. Did they really think Liam could keep living with Angel after what he’d just been through?   
  
“What do you mean?” Angel was… not offended – although maybe that was part of it – but disconcerted by Willow’s pronouncement. Yes, he’d frightened Liam badly today, but he wanted the chance to make things right, and at any rate, his question was very practical. Where in this town was it safe for a traumatized vampire to go?  
  
Willow was angry at him – still, again – and she almost spat out her answer. “At my house.”  
  
At her house? He was about to offer strong opposition to that idea when other voices rang out before he could even open his mouth.  
  
“What?!?”  
  
“Are you sure about this?”  
  
“No!”  
  
Angel chimed in with his own, rather obvious, question once Xander and Oz and Buffy had stopped speaking. “What about your parents?”  
  
Now Willow wasn’t the only one glaring at him. What had he said?  
  
“They’re gone,” Willow said, her voice carrying a bitterness that made Angel wonder… Were they dead? No, that couldn’t be. Someone would have told him, wouldn’t they?   
  
Angel looked confused and Buffy paused before getting back to telling Willow just why she was not going to take Liam into her home to explain things to Angel. “They’re at some conference.” Then she got back to the matter at hand. “Liam’s safe here,” she said. “I’m sure he gets that now.”  
  
Unfortunately, Liam was clinging to Willow and it wasn’t helping Buffy’s case. “Does he look like he feels safe?” Yeah, Buffy had to admit he didn’t, but… There was something wrong with this picture. She thought she caught a… something in Liam’s eyes – a sharp, aware something – for a split second. It was gone now, but it had been there. She was almost sure it had. If only she could prove it.   
  
“He can’t stay with you, Will.”  
  
Everyone was talking around him as if he weren’t there. In a sense, Liam hadn’t been, but he was now. Still, he wasn’t bothered by the inattention; he was glad of it. He wanted to think. Keeping his expression unfocused, he processed everything he’d heard and dredged up the things he’d absorbed while still consumed by the fear of being a pet once more.  
  
An act. Angel had been playing a role… and Buffy had been too. Neither of them, however, had seen fit to inform him that he was part of the cast of this charming drama they’d staged.  
  
He hated them – hated them both. The memory of Angel’s hands on him… the threats… and what was worse? Faith had been there. The bitch who reminded him so completely of the creature who’d tortured and used him had been allowed to laugh at him, to see him as weak and powerless and… _owned_. His humiliation was so profound he could almost feel the blush of shame he hadn’t been able to experience since Darla had changed him.  
  
At least he could still trust Willow. She hadn’t known, and she was angry at what had been done to him. She was still his friend. He held onto her, waiting to see what the outcome of what sounded like an argument would be. All he really wanted was to leave here.  
  
“Do you really think he should stay with you?”   
  
Willow wasn’t nearly as upset by Oz’s question as she was by everyone else. Mostly because he wasn’t talking _at_ her or trying to order her around. She sure appreciated that because right now there was so much anger in her that she felt like she was about to explode. “He can’t stay here,” she reiterated.  
  
Oz was looking at Liam, really looking at him, and with compassion, Willow could tell. She loved him more than ever. “I’ll get his stuff.”  
  
He shot Angel a look and before Willow could ask the question, Angel answered. “It’s the third bedroom.”  
  
“Angel!” Buffy cried. She couldn’t believe he was just caving in. Was she the only person who thought that Liam moving in with Willow was one very bad idea? Apparently so, since Oz was already headed upstairs.  
  
Or maybe not.  
  
“So you’re just going to shack up with a vampire? Are you crazy?” Oh god. Suddenly she was wishing she’d been right about no one agreeing with her. Did Xander crack a molar? Because boy had he shoved his foot into his mouth. Willow looked more furious than before and Buffy hadn’t believed that was possible. She’d never seen Willow this angry.  
  
Angel decided to step in before things grew too heated. He felt as if too much had been lost today already, though he wasn’t sure – or he was too terrified to accept – what exactly those losses were. The last thing they needed was for the group to come apart. Especially with the Ascension looming. First thing’s first: he needed to stop Xander from saying another word. “Look, insults and yelling aren’t going to get us anywhere.” Then he turned to Willow, because, despite his having told Oz where to find Liam’s room, he still hoped calm and reason could prevail. “I understand why you’re upset. We were wrong – I was wrong. But that doesn’t mean Liam has to leave. I can talk to him… apologize…”  
  
It didn’t work. Willow’s eyes were hard and cold and still angry. For all her seeming calm, she was as furious as she’d been when she’d screamed curses at them all. And there was a crackle of energy around her… This was the girl who’d torn his soul from the ether and forced it back into him, wasn’t it?   
  
It was probably a really good thing for Angel and Buffy and Xander that Oz got back with Liam’s things just now or she would have given them another very large piece of her mind. Instead, she got up, guiding Liam to stand with her, and simply said, “Let’s go.”  
  
They were almost at the door when Buffy spoke again. “Willow?”   
  
She turned around and Buffy was right there, about to touch her. She stepped back, holding her hands up as if to say ‘back off.’ “No, Buffy. I’m not… I don’t have anything more to say to you. I’m really angry with you – with all of you – right now, in case you didn’t get it, and I’m leaving, and Oz is leaving, and Liam is leaving and… We’re leaving. Don’t call me, okay?” She made sure to look at Xander when she spoke; she meant him too.  
  
With that, she and her companions headed out to Oz’s van. And Willow burst into tears.  
  
  
  
“Well, that went really well, except for the part where Willow is now living with a _demon_.” Of course, Xander would have something snide to say.  
  
Buffy rounded on him immediately, almost grateful to have someone to vent her turbulent emotions on, “Oh, and you did so much to stop her. Because the part where you insulted her? That was a big help.”  
  
“I didn’t see you blocking her way!”  
  
“Stop it,” Angel almost yelled and Buffy instantly bit back the retort which was on the tip of her tongue. “Just let it go for tonight. I’m sure after they’ve both gotten some rest, Liam will recover and Willow will realize that he needs to come back here. It’s not like her parents are going to be gone forever.”  
  
Oh God. Angel really didn’t know much about Willow or her life, did he? “Umm…”  
  
“They’re gone ‘til September, Deadboy,” Xander snapped.  
  
September? Angel was stunned. What kind of parents left a child alone in any town for that long, let alone one with a mortality rate like Sunnydale’s? For some reason, though, knowing this allowed him to understand her devotion to friends like Xander much better. The one-time romantic attraction, however, remained a mystery. “Okay, but she’ll still see reason. Willow’s a sensible girl.” She was, too. Out of everyone in the group, she’d always been the brightest and also the one most capable of understanding emotion and reason at the same time.   
  
“Yeah,” Buffy answered, but she seemed less than confident.  
  
Xander, naturally, had to change the subject. “Can we take a moment to discuss that punch to the jaw thing? Was that strictly necessary? Because my sore face says ‘no’.”  
  
“Xander…” Buffy sighed.  
  
“Fine. Your boyfriend gets a free pass to beat people up.”  
  
“Xander!” Buffy cried with a great deal more force. Bringing up even the smallest thing that Angel did while pretending to have lost his soul brought up things that were as upsetting in their own way as Willow’s anger…and her brand new houseguest. “Can you just let it go, please? Because I guarantee you did not have the worst day out of all of us.”  
  
Silence. That was good. Xander also looked suitably ashamed of himself, and that was good too. He got it. “Sorry,” he said with total sincerity. “Willow won’t stay mad, you know. That’s not who she is.”   
  
Sometimes Xander was insightful in a way that absolutely stunned her. Buffy went to him and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks.”   
  
The adrenaline was now completely gone and all that was left were thoughts and fears rolling around in her head – that and fatigue she hoped would result in sleep as soon as she got home. Because those thoughts and feelings? Yeah, she wanted to postpone exploring them for as long as she could. “We better go,” she said before turning to Angel. Their eyes locked. She wished she knew what was going on in his head because he was completely unreadable to her. Was she as much of a mystery to him? Going to him, she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly, though she wasn’t sure why.  
  
Angel said nothing as Buffy and Xander left the mansion. He felt hollow and drained and not at all like a hero. They’d carried the day and yet here he was: beaten and broken and sad. Some of it was guilt and empathy for Liam; some of it was the lingering feelings of betrayal at Faith’s perfidy; but the truth was that most of it was selfish. He knew that something had happened between him and Buffy tonight – something had broken and it could never be repaired. She’d seen his demon in a way she never had when he’d lost his soul. Back then, she’d seen Angelus, the Killer. She hadn’t seen nearly the worst of it – not until she’d gotten a glimpse of it tonight as he’d toyed with Liam.   
  
So now she knew what he was – really knew. And it had shocked and horrified her. What would this mean? Would they be able to work through this? Could she learn to trust him again? Could their love grow from this into something even truer and stronger than before?  
  
Or had he lost her forever? His one reason for holding on through every sunrise that tempted him to just give up.   
  
Sitting in front of the fire, he thought of Hell and of swords… and he wondered if Buffy was the only one who’d realized things tonight.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	15. Chapter Fourteen

  
Feral (Chapter Fourteen)  
  
  
  
The drive to Willow’s house seemed to take forever. Maybe that was because being sad was so awful. She felt guilty, too. Here she was, crying, when it was Liam who had really been through stuff – terrible, horrible stuff and all because…  
  
It was this Buffy thing, this ‘cool people only’ attitude she’d had ever since Faith came to town. Yeah, okay, Willow couldn’t kill things with her bare hands (or with anything, really, as she’d realized last night) and maybe it was okay that she hadn’t been told about this plan that Buffy and Angel and Giles had hatched, but Liam? Liam _could_ kill things – lots of things – and he could keep secrets, too, she was sure. Couldn’t he have been in the cool group? Why couldn’t Angel have told him, spared him from the terror of thinking he was going to be a captive all over again?  
  
She dried her tears and looked toward Oz, calm and collected as he drove towards her house. What was he thinking? Oh no! She just realized something. “I forgot blood,” she said, wishing she could kick herself. What a stupid thing to forget. Stress always made _her_ hungry – wouldn’t it do the same for vampires?  
  
“I can drop you off and go to Willie’s,” Oz offered.  
  
“You don’t mind?” He really was the kindest person – well, werewolf – ever, wasn’t he?   
  
“We’re here.” And so they were, Liam realized, as the van came to a stop. He’d been lost in thought the whole way, here in the back of this rattletrap vehicle. A short time ago, he’d thought he was about to suffer the torments of the damned all over again – including rape by his own counterpart – and now… Now, though he’d discovered it was all part of some plan to dupe Faith into spilling her guts, he was in no mood to forgive and forget and chalk it up to a sacrifice for the greater good.   
  
Willow opened the door for him and reached for his hand, guiding him out. So this was her house. Generic and middle class, but definitely more modern and in better condition than the so-called mansion. Liam marginally approved, though she did deserve something more grand. Her parents were another story… leaving her alone in a town like Sunnydale? Did they have no idea what went on here? Or did they just want to be rid of her?  
  
If they did, they were in for a serious disappointment. After tonight, he was more determined to protect her than ever… and thanks to the night’s events, he was no longer unwilling to admit to himself one of the reasons why.  
  
He loved her.  
  
“This is my house.” Willow winced the moment she said it. Of course this was her house. Where else would they be?  
  
She started toward the front door, with Oz and Liam following her, wishing her home was a little fancier. Liam had to be sort of used to the mansion now… the mansion where, Buffy had told her, Angel’s bathtub was almost the size of the swimming pool at school. Not like she had the same creature comforts. Still, he would be glad to be away from Angel right now, right? So her house would be okay.  
  
Getting out her key, she opened the door and flipped the light switch. Oz followed her inside, but Liam stood on the doorstep. “Come in,” she said after a moment, feeling very foolish. She’d forgotten that he needed to be invited in. She was about to say something, some dorky welcome speech probably, when Oz spoke. “I’m gonna go get the blood.” He pulled her aside as Liam wandered further into the house – probably comparing it unfavorably to Angel’s place. “Are you gonna be okay?”  
  
Her brow furrowed as she wondered what he meant, but she pretended she got it. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.” She kissed him softly on the lips before he left. It was really sweet of him to go get Liam some food. Oh shoot! She’d forgotten to ask if he needed any money. She thought of running after him, but Liam had disappeared and she didn’t want her traumatized guest to walk back into the room and find her gone. She’d pay Oz back when he returned. Her parents always left cash along with the usual credit card. Guess they figured it made up for missing two thirds of her life.  
  
“Liam?” Willow’s voice found Liam as he wandered through her dining room. There was a fine sheen of dust on the tablecloth, making it obvious that there’d been no family dinners here for quite awhile. But despite that depressing observation, the room felt safe to him. It reminded him of Ted’s house, homey and familial. He remembered sitting at Ted’s table, the smell of cookies baking… Ted gave them to his neighbors. Funny how, now, he suddenly realized he’d never seen Ted eat. Back then he hadn’t noticed that at all. Maybe because you didn’t question true friends, and Ted had been that.  
  
“I’m in here,” he called back.   
  
A moment later, Willow was by his side. “Are you okay?”  
  
He turned to her; her face was shining with concern. Another true friend… and so much more than that, at least in _his_ mind. “Yeah,” he said softly.  
  
“Oz is getting you some blood,” she said brightly, obviously not sure how much he’d heard. Her solicitude touched him – the way she worried about just how badly he was suffering after what he’d endured today.  
  
She was right, to a great degree, but he wasn’t lost – not anymore. No, he wasn’t weak, but furious, with the kind of cold rage he’d barely had the chance to recognize in himself in his own world – so caught up had he been in wanting to believe that the Slayer would pull through the way he’d been promised and that he’d be able to save the town from the Master and his cadre at last.  
  
Then Buffy’s neck had been broken, he’d wound up at the point of Xander’s stake… and somehow he’d been brought here. “Thanks,” he said. He supposed he _was_ grateful to the wolf for fetching his food, but it didn’t change anything much – or at all, in fact.   
  
“I can show you your room if you want,” Willow offered, hoping he’d like it. He seemed distracted right now and she was worried that he was thinking about what had gone on back at Angel’s.   
  
“That would be fine.” She led him back to the living room to get his things and then upstairs. Instead of taking him to the guest room, though, she took him to her parents’ room. It was bigger and it had its own bathroom and she figured that might be closer to the kind of luxury that he really deserved after what he’d been through.  
  
  
“I hope this is okay. The bathroom’s right through here,” she went and opened the door, “and you can store your stuff in the closet. My parents won’t be home for months, so…” She didn’t know what else to say. Should she bring up what had happened? Would he want to talk about it? And, maybe most importantly, could she keep her own emotions out of it? Because it wouldn’t be fair to burden him with her distress, but…   
  
How could Angel have done this to him? How could he have betrayed someone who was… well, not him, but another world’s _version_ of him? Was it her fault? Had she given him back a defective soul?  
  
But what hurt most was how she was feeling about the one person she couldn’t stop thinking about: Buffy. Buffy, who seemed to think everything was okay as long as they found out stuff about the Ascension. Willow wasn’t entirely sure that finding out the date was such a big deal, but even if it was, was it okay to find out at the cost of people’s well-being? Did the end really justify the means? Buffy was better than that… wasn’t she?  
  
Liam didn’t need this – he didn’t need her angst on top of the much more terrible things he’d gone through. So maybe she’d just leave him alone.  
  
“I’m back.” Oz’s voice from downstairs was a blessed interruption.  
  
“Oh. Your dinner’s here,” she caroled, trying hard to sound cheerful. “Want me to heat up some blood for you?” He nodded, but made no move to follow her when she went downstairs. That was okay. He could probably use some time alone.  
  
  
  
Buffy sat on her bed, incredibly depressed, wondering how things had spiraled so far out of control. This whole plan had been her idea, so why was she left feeling blindsided and confused?  
  
Okay, so she hadn’t actually taken the whole ‘Liam’ thing into consideration, nor had she been prepared for what she was going to feel when she saw Angel pretending to be soulless…and kissing Faith. She lay down and put her pillow over her head, as if it could somehow stop the images from playing over and over in her mind. It didn’t work. It never worked. But she’d hoped this time… No. The sight of Angel with his tongue down Faith’s throat would not go away.  
  
She knew he had to put on a convincing act; she got it, she really did. But did it have to be as convincing as it was? Because it seemed like he liked it. A lot. So much that maybe if Faith wasn’t working for the Mayor…  
  
If her Mom wasn’t right downstairs, she’d have screamed to drown out the sound of Faith’s moans, the sound of Angel’s fingers sliding down the leather of Faith’s pants to grab her ass. She buried her face in her mattress, still hoping she could make it all stop.  
  
But while she could stop herself from screaming, she couldn’t stop herself from crying. She reached for the phone reflexively, wanting to call Willow. She couldn’t do that though, could she? Because Willow hated her – or at least was pretty mad at her. Because of what had happened to Liam. One more thing that she hadn’t expected when she’d made her plan.  
  
Be careful what you wish for, because now the images of Angel and Faith were gone – replaced by the sight of Angel with his hand on Liam’s crotch. That had been really, really creepy and scary… reminding her that there was so much about Angel’s past she didn’t know… so much she didn’t _want_ to know.  
  
She loved Angel – that was as true now as it had ever been – but she had no idea who he was. And she wasn’t sure she trusted him anymore. All of the thoughts and images and memories and questions whirling around in her head and none of it was getting her anywhere. She hated this, hated feeling unsure and alone, hated that she had no idea what to do. Her head stayed under the pillow and she cried herself to sleep.  
  
  
  
Willow carried a warm mug of Type A up to Liam’s room. She hoped he didn’t mind human, but according to Oz, you couldn’t really ask for anything else at Willie’s if you wanted to keep your demon cred. He might have been joking about the demon cred part, but Willow was tired and upset and it made it hard for her to read Oz the way she usually could. He’d been so sweet and understanding, though, and she was so grateful for that. He’d gone home a minute ago, not seeming at all bugged by the lack of smoochies. He seemed really concerned about Liam, too. Willow was glad of that, because Liam needed friends right now – real ones. She knocked on the bedroom door. “Can I come in?”  
  
The door opened and there was Liam, still looking sad and shadowed, and Willow’s heart broke again. She really needed to be there for him, she decided, so if he wanted to talk, she’d work harder than she ever had at anything to suppress her own feelings and be the shoulder he could really use right now. “Here’s your blood,” she said as she handed him the mug. She watched, fascinated, as he drank it down right in front of her and then set the mug on the nightstand.  
  
“Thank you,” he said, when he was finished. He hadn’t thought before downing his blood, but he was glad it hadn’t scared her away. Sitting here alone… he hated to admit it, but he felt vulnerable. “I guess you probably want to go to bed now.” He was hoping like anything that she said no.  
  
Sometimes wishes came true. “No, it’s okay. I figured I’ll stay home tomorrow.”  
  
As much as he was thrilled by that idea, he felt compelled to ask, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything that would affect your grades. You’re a senior, right? I know you’ve got college to worry about and…”  
  
“Pfft,” she offered, cutting him off. “I’ve already been accepted to every college I want to go to. Besides, you’re my friend, and you matter more to me than school right now.”  
  
His heart might not be able to beat, but it could feel hope, and it did. She cared. Maybe not the same way he did, but every moment gave him fresh evidence that at least her feelings were far more than commonplace. It was, he supposed, recompense for what he’d endured… for the terror and the betrayal. “Thank you,” he said again.  
  
Willow took Liam’s hand and answered, “You’re welcome.” Polite, but really not enough, was it? Because what did he have to thank her for? She felt sort of responsible for him. It was her fault he was here. And okay, he’d be dust if he’d stayed where he came from, but her brain wasn’t really doing the logic dance right now. “Do you want to talk?”  
  
He sighed and sat down on the bed; she joined him. “I… I don’t know.”  
  
Stupid Willow, getting it wrong again. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just thought…” She started to get up, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.   
  
“I want to talk. It’s just that I don’t know what to say.”  
  
Oh. Okay. Willow got that, actually, because it had been a pretty confusing and intense kind of day. “We can just sit here if you want, and then when you figure it out, I’ll be here.”  
  
  
  
Angel lay in bed, trying to sleep, but it was a futile effort – and not just because this wasn’t the natural hour of slumber for his kind.  
  
His kind. That was definitely part of what was keeping him awake, though. He was a vampire, a demon. That was a truth which was never, ever going to change. He’d thought Buffy understood, but now… And there’d been signs before, hadn’t there? Even in the days when the loss of his soul hadn’t been something they’d known was a possibility. She’d talk about the future, _their_ future, in human terms. He’d chalked it up to slips of the tongue then, but what if it had always been something deeper?  
  
And what if she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t seen the whole truth?  
  
Looking back, he realized that he’d always gazed into the eyes of the Slayer. The times when her prattle had been pure teenage girl, he’d kissed away the words, pretending that that part of her wasn’t who she really was – the same way she had done with the demon, it seemed.  
  
Too late, though, for logic and analysis, because he loved… He loved part of her, at any rate, and it was true and deep and eternal. It would live on long after she’d gone into the ground from which he’d emerged… Long after…  
  
Long after she’d moved on, found love with someone else.   
  
She would, wouldn’t she? Because the same way the demon was who _he_ really was, the girl was who _she_ really was. The Slayer, the Seeker of Redemption… Those were the masks they wore; those were the jobs they did, just as surely as if they punched a time clock. But when the workday was done, they slipped out of their roles and into their truth, and it was that truth that made their love more impossible than the curse ever could.  
  
No! No! Angel wouldn’t accept that, wouldn’t accept any of it. He loved Buffy, _Buffy_ , teenage babble and dreams of picket fences and all, and she loved _him_ , she did. And all of these doubts and dire prophecies? They were nothing more than fatigue and the aftereffects of betrayal and having to kiss someone who wasn’t Buffy and who _was_ a traitor. Oh, and the guilt over what he’d done to Liam no doubt played a large role in his despair as well.  
  
Yes, that was it. But Liam was safe with Willow now and she’d get over _her_ anger and help Liam through his pain. Tomorrow would come and Buffy would realize that he wasn’t a soulless demon, not anymore and… Everything would be all right. It had to be.   
  
Buffy was all he had. She was the sunlight in his eternal darkness, she was the beat of a heart that couldn’t… She was his girl.  
  
He turned over and punched his pillow, trying to make himself more comfortable. He needed to sleep.  
  
  
  
Willow fought to keep the shock from her face as she digested the words Liam had finally been able to share. Angel had said he’d threatened Liam, but he hadn’t said exactly what those threats entailed. The fact that they’d included rape, for instance. Oh God. No wonder Liam had been in shock.  
  
Again, she wondered how Angel could have done that. She got that he had to pretend to be soulless and all, but… He knew what Liam had just been rescued from. Why… why hadn’t he let Liam in on the plan before it happened? Yes, she’d been asking herself this question for hours, but it was still a good question and one for which there seemed to be no rational answer. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, feeling horribly inadequate. She’d never been raped and she felt as if she was woefully under-qualified to help Liam through this.  
  
Taking Willow’s hand, Liam felt the heat of her skin warm him. “It’s not your fault,” he said, letting the fear reawakened by telling his story burn away under her fingers. “You didn’t know either.”  
  
“No, but… I probably should have figured that something was up. I mean, Giles is never the ‘just sit and wait’ type. He’s all about plans and even when he isn’t, Buffy always rushes off and does something anyway. I shouldn’t have been so stupid.”  
  
Liam smiled ruefully. “You weren’t stupid. You trusted your friends.”  
  
“Which in this case translates as stupid.”  
  
He could sense some of that innocent nature of hers being destroyed and he hastened to undo the damage. “It’s not stupid.” He took her other hand in his and gazed into her eyes. “Don’t let this change you. Just because they were cruel and thoughtless, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stay exactly as you are. The way you see the good in people… It’s special. It is.”  
  
Willow wasn’t sure he was right, but she nodded anyway. Arguing with him would be pretty unkind. “I still wish…”  
  
“I know. But none of it was your fault.”  
  
“Thanks for not hating me.”   
  
“I could never hate you.”   
  
His eyes were staring straight into hers still and it unsettled her. And of course, whenever she was unsettled… “How did it happen? I mean, you getting captured where you’re from.” Why had she asked that? Was he mad? He should be; she couldn’t believe she’d asked something so insensitive and creepy.   
  
Liam looked away for a moment, not trusting himself not to reveal his feelings. She asked… She cared about what had happened to him. But was he ready to talk about this? He barely allowed himself to _think_ about it.  
  
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”  
  
Did she think he was angry? He faced her again. “No, no. I was just surprised. It’s… It’s not something I ever thought I would talk about.”  
  
“We don’t have to. I guess I just thought…”  
  
“It’s okay,” he said, holding her hands again. “I…” He took a deep, unnecessary breath. Some habits never died, even when you did. “I came to Sunnydale to stop the Master. Whistler told me the Slayer would be here, but she wasn’t… And I tried to get help from Giles and Oz and Larry, but they wouldn’t trust me. The only one who believed me was Ted… and then Darla.”  
  
“Darla?”   
  
“She was my sire,” Liam explained and Willow allowed him to think that not knowing the name of the vampire who’d made him was the reason for her question. She had a feeling that was a good idea. In the meantime, she could be upset about the fact that Giles and Oz had refused to help Liam in the other Sunnydale. Liam continued to tell his story, growing visibly distressed as he told it. “We hadn’t seen each other in so long… and my soul… But she was still… The Master was _her_ sire, but she took my side against him. She agreed to spy on him, to find a way in so we could defeat him, and we thought it was working but he found out and…” He stopped for a moment and Willow thought she saw the shine of tears in his eyes. “He lured us to him and he drained her, his own… He drained her right in front of me. I thought he was going to kill me too. I wanted… But he did worse than that – he kept me captive, and he gave me to his favorites.”  
  
Willow was stunned by the story. He hadn’t provided many details, but what he’d shared…   
  
Darla was different there, wasn’t she? There she was one of the good guys. A vampire without a soul, but she’d loved Liam, hadn’t she? And she’d been willing to betray her own sire for him. Even though she wasn’t the Darla from this world, Willow almost felt guilty for hating the one she’d known, for having been glad when Angel killed her. Even though she’d killed Jesse, it suddenly felt…   
  
“I should have asked Angel,” Liam said softly, not thinking about the words before he said them. A part of his terrible story was told now and he felt drained and numb. “I should have asked him about her.” Somehow, even in the state of torpor into which he was sinking, he saw something in Willow’s eyes and it pulled him out of the black. “Do you know? Do you know where she is?”  
  
There were tears in her eyes and he knew what she was going to say, but that didn’t change the way the words stung fire-hot when she spoke. “She’s dead, Liam. I’m so sorry, but she’s dead.”  
  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Feral (Chapter Fifteen)  
  
  
  
Darla was dead – both Darlas were dust and ash and nothingness. Another blow landed on Liam’s spirit and he felt spectral bruises bloom. This was enough. He didn’t want to hear more, he didn’t want to know… “How did it happen?” he heard himself ask and he was stunned at his own masochism.  
  
Willow simply sat there, silent for a moment, and he hoped she wasn’t thinking of some prevarication. He didn’t think she’d lie to him, not now, but she’d lied at first about Ted, hadn’t she? It had been to spare his feelings, but still…   
  
“She wasn’t the same,” Willow began cautiously. She didn’t want to lie to Liam, but she didn’t want to hurt him more either. But maybe… Wouldn’t it hurt more if she left it like this? Left him seeing two dead heroines instead of telling him what the Darla from this world had been like? “She was helping the Master. She…,” Willow took a deep breath, “she tried to kill me… and she killed my best friend, Jesse.”  
  
There were tears in her eyes and they sort of surprised her. She hadn’t cried about – hadn’t _thought_ about – Jesse in so long, but now… Now it felt like yesterday and she was remembering all the things they used to do together and suddenly, for no reason at all, she wondered what he would think if he knew that Xander had been Cordelia’s boyfriend, that he’d had Jesse’s dream girl, and the tears started falling thick and fast even though she tried to stop them.  
  
What? Darla had tried to kill…? That wasn’t the Darla he knew. That wasn’t his sire. For a moment, he wanted to believe this was all lies, but the tears… and this was Willow, not Angel or any of the others. This was the girl who had come to his defense so bravely tonight, this was the girl he… loved. Loved the way he wished he’d been able to love the very sire he was mourning anew. This world was so different; he supposed it stood to reason that Darla could have been a different creature here as well. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. A second later he began thinking over what Willow had said – that Darla had tried to kill her. He was grateful she hadn’t succeeded. Was this… “Is that how she died? When she attacked you?”  
  
Willow shook her head, and it seemed to halt the flow of her tears. “No. It was later, after she tried to drain Buffy’s Mom. Angel… He had to. He didn’t have a choice.”  
  
While Liam was somewhat shocked at the idea of his counterpart slaughtering his own sire, and while it was a struggle to think of her differently from the Darla who had been loyal to him unto dust, it didn't surprise him that Angel had apparently only acted at all when the threat involved his precious Slayer. He decided not to think about it. Angel and Buffy had betrayed him today; he didn’t need to have them in his mind. He focused on something else Willow had said and a name that was utterly unfamiliar to him. “You said she killed your best friend: Jesse. I don’t remember him.”  
  
“Really?” Willow had come to realize just how different the other Sunnydale was from the one in which she lived, but it was still strange every time she heard some new detail that differed starkly from the world she knew. She wondered: Had the other Willow or Xander killed Jesse? And not sired him? Or had he become some lowly minion? “I guess he wasn’t around when you were or something,” she offered noncommittally. She really wasn’t up to thinking about Jesse’s fate in that other world. It was hard enough having her grief over the Jesse she knew reawakened.   
  
“I’m sorry he’s dead.” Liam sounded sincere, but Willow really just wanted to change the subject. She felt guilty for not having thought about Jesse in months before tonight.   
  
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but this conversation so needed to be over.  
  
There was silence and Willow was grateful, but she never knew what to do when there were no words. As always, she clumsily provided some. “Are you all right?” Good job, there. Let’s just take things back to what Liam went through tonight – you know, in case maybe he was feeling better or something, because we wouldn’t want that. “I’m sorry,” she added to try and blunt her awkward carelessness and it was the umpteenth time those words had been said. They sounded weird now – like noise that didn’t have any meaning at all. ‘Aye-m sah-ree.’ Weird and sharp and not at all sympathetic.  
  
Sometimes thinking made everything worse.   
  
Willow’s question rang in his ears, drowning out the apology that had followed, and Liam wondered how to answer. He decided on “Thank you for letting me stay in your home” because it was true and it was the one thing about which he was comfortable being completely honest. His head was swirling as the intensity of his emotions ebbed enough for him to think about everything that had transpired and everything he’d learned.  
  
He might have heard Willow say something like ‘you’re welcome’, but his thoughts were loud and got in the way. He’d been betrayed, used, and made into a pawn in a game he only found out afterwards was even being played. His sire was gone forever and so was the first true friend he’d ever had. He hated Angel more than he had back at the mansion and the same was true for Buffy… and he needed to know so much more about this world if he was to make his own way in it.  
  
Now, however, was not the time to share his feelings with Willow. She was tired. Truth be told, so was he. He longed for sleep to escape the chaos in his head. “You should get some rest,” he said kindly.  
  
“No, I can stay here and talk to you. I’m fine,” she replied, but it didn’t sound too convincing since that last word was swallowed up by a yawn. The fatigue crashed down on her so suddenly that, until right this minute, she hadn’t realized just how drained she was. Still, she felt unbelievably rude and inconsiderate for even thinking about sleep. She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘I’m sorry’ one more time, though, not with the weirdness, so she settled for, “Are you sure?”  
  
He chuckled softly. Normally Willow’s feelings would be hurt by something like that, but this time she was just glad he could be amused after that whole ‘bondage and threats of torture and rape’ thing back at the mansion. “I should get some sleep myself,” he said, so she got up. He stood with her, pulling her into a hug. It suddenly struck her as odd, the way he felt so… not cold, exactly, but not exactly human-type warm. She hugged him back though, and let him hold her for what seemed like kind of a long time.   
  
When he finally let go, she went to the door, turned, and said, “See you in the morning.” Then she headed down the hall towards her own room. She had barely changed into her nightclothes and gotten into bed before she was sound asleep.  
  
  
  
It was daylight when Angel awoke – morning, in fact – but there was no use in trying to go back to sleep. His dreams had been anything but a refuge. No, instead they had been a confusing mélange of memories and fears, of visions of his past as the Scourge of Europe mixed with nightmarish alternatives to what had gone on yesterday… of everyone believing his soul had truly been taken and of being staked by Buffy.   
  
It seemed foolish to stay in bed any longer, so he got up and headed downstairs for some blood.  
  
Blood! Willow hadn’t taken any with her for Liam. Had she remembered that? Had she been able to get some somewhere? He should have said something last night. Dammit! A traumatized vampire was enough of a handful for Willow, but a hungry one as well… If only the tunnels would take him to her house. He thought of calling her, but he realized, much to his shame, that he had no idea what her phone number was.   
  
Great, he thought as he took a packet of pig out of the refrigerator, the day had only just begun and it was already not much more peaceful than the night he’d just passed. He ran his hand through his still-sleep-disheveled hair before pouring the porcine liquid into a mug and putting it in the microwave.  
  
Unbidden, the thoughts came – the thoughts of how much this barnyard swill _didn’t_ satisfy his appetite; of how much a part of him still craved the warm, pulsing nectar flowing beneath the skin of the humans by whom he was surrounded constantly; of how _easy_ it would be to just take a taste. He wouldn’t have to _drain_ the ‘donor’, after all, would he? So what would be the harm?  
  
The microwave beeped and Angel took the cup out and downed its contents, grimacing as he drank. He hated himself for his thoughts, but that didn’t change their truth.   
  
It had been easier before last night, easier to pretend and easier to tolerate the sacrifices he made each day. But now… Now he was carried back to those early days of learning to live with his soul, of the conscious decisions he’d had to force himself to make every moment before they’d finally become second nature and been blessedly moved to the back of his mind.  
  
There was an anger smoldering inside him that he didn’t want to think about, but couldn’t avoid – anger at Buffy. He thought about last night, about what they’d learned from Faith and what Willow had said. She’d been right. Nothing Faith had told them was so crucial that it could only have been learned in time through their charade. Research, even spying, could have done the trick long before the Ascension.  
  
Of course, hindsight… And that was all this nonsense was, right? Of course Buffy’s plan had been the right way to go given what they’d known and that voice whispering to him that her motives might have had more to do with testing _him_ than ferreting out a way to defeat the Mayor was nothing but the sibilant tongue of the Father of Lies.  
  
He was getting tired of this tug-of-war. Was it between his mind and his heart or between truth and fear? He didn’t know; he just wanted it to stop.   
And what of Liam? Was he all right? Was Willow able to soothe him? Were they both still angry at him? At Buffy? It suddenly occurred to him that today was a school day. Willow would be there, wouldn’t she? Buffy was prone to joking that that the first sign of the apocalypse would be Willow missing school. He could take the tunnels there, bring her some blood, try and apologize again.   
  
But would she leave Liam alone? As dedicated a student as she was, she was an even more dedicated friend. No, he had a feeling that seeking her out at Sunnydale High would be pointless. She’d undoubtedly stayed at home with Liam.   
  
For a moment he thought of going to the school anyway, to talk to Giles, to talk to Buffy, but just as quickly he decided against it. His thoughts were in disarray and the last thing he wanted was to somehow feed the doubts and fears growling like tigers in his mind.  
  
He went back upstairs, but instead of returning to his own room, he found himself entering Liam’s. It didn’t seem to have been changed much by his guest’s brief occupancy. His hands ran over the dresser. Still a fine layer of dust atop it. Then he opened a drawer. One of Drusilla’s petticoats, stained and torn, was in it. Spike – always the fetishist. No doubt he’d saved it as a souvenir of an encounter he cherished far more deeply than Dru ever could. Had he left this memento behind in his haste to flee Sunnydale? Or had it somehow lost its meaning and been left behind willingly? Angel would never know, he supposed.  
  
Taking the tattered piece of fabric from the drawer, he was about to look it over and see what secrets it might reveal to him when his eye was caught by what had been underneath it.  
  
The volume of Poe he’d been looking for just the other day… torn in half.  
  
  
  
“Hey! Have you seen Willow?” Buffy was relieved to see Oz by the lockers. Willow was supposed to have been in first period with her, but she’d obviously slept in or something and Buffy hadn’t had the chance to look for her again until now.  
  
“Nah. She’s not here today,” Oz said, his tone maddeningly even. What did he mean she wasn’t here? Even when she was cyber-flirting with evil Malcolm, she’d shown up for school. Okay, late, but she hadn’t skipped the whole day. Surprisingly, Oz seemed to read her mind. “She just needs time.”  
  
Oh. So this was a ‘Willow was still angry’ thing. She guessed she understood. Willow still had massive inappropriate guilt where Liam was concerned and it made sense that she’d overreact, but… “I just want to talk to her. Make her understand. We had to find out what Faith knew.” She was almost pleading.  
  
“I get it. She will too.” Oz was practically chatty right now and Buffy was extremely grateful. This reassurance gave her hope that she and Willow would be back to being best buds any minute, which was good because she was already going through Willow-withdrawal.   
  
“How was she last night?”  
  
Oz was silent for a few seconds and Buffy wondered if he’d already used up all the words he’d rationed for the day, but then he spoke. “Pretty upset.” From the look in his eyes, she could tell that Willow wasn’t the only one.  
  
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say. Last night had been hard on her too, but she couldn’t see herself spilling her guts about Angel and Faith and all the doubts she had to Oz; she just couldn’t. And anyway, even if she could, it would sound selfish and the last thing she wanted was for Oz to think that it was all ‘me, me,me’ to her, because it was anything but. “Do you think I should call her?”  
  
Another uncomfortable silence before he said, “Maybe you should stop by, bring some blood. I couldn’t get much last night.”  
  
“A peace offering. That’s a great idea. Thanks!” It really _was_ a great idea – much better than anything she’d have come up with on her own. So great, in fact, that she almost wanted to cut the rest of her classes and make a mad dash to Angel’s place, except… Oh. She was gonna have to see Angel, wasn’t she?   
  
She could do that. Yes. She could.   
  
Just then, the bell rang. Oz waved slightly and shut his locker door, heading off to a classroom unknown. Buffy headed off to chemistry class. Later, after school, she’d go to Angel’s. For blood.  
  
  
  
It was the fourth time Liam had woken up from a nightmare and he finally decided to give up on sleep. It was easier to deal with the residual fear and the intensity of his anger when he was awake and could exercise some control. The unpredictability of nightmares made them too much like the years he spent as a captive.  
  
He got up and found some of the clothes he’d brought with him. He needed some clothes of his own, he decided, but then again, how would he pay for them? Back in the world from which he came, there was money hidden away, but it wasn’t as if he could get it from here. For a moment he thought… but no. His past and Angel’s were different enough that he didn’t think their storage places matched up at all.   
  
Now that he was attired in something unrumpled, he decided to go downstairs. Was Willow awake? He hoped so; he didn’t want to have to try and resist the temptation to go to her bedroom. She wasn’t ready for him to declare his feelings, was she? And then, of course…  
  
For the first time since he’d realized the depth and truth of those very feelings he was keeping to himself, he thought about the curse – not in terms of Angel’s soul, but of his own.  
  
He looked in the bag containing his things. The laptop she’d given him was there. That was a very good thing. She had an internet connection and, with this, he could do some research and keep it private. Because there had to be some intricacies to this clause. It wasn’t as if he’d been entirely celibate since gaining his soul and then there was the whole notion of what constituted ‘perfect happiness’… Yes, there was digging to be done and the computer would be his shovel.   
  
That could wait a little while, however. Now he made the bed and then left the room, shutting the door behind him.  
  
  
  
Cereal. It wasn’t Willow’s favorite breakfast, but she was out of eggs and she was still too bone weary to manage more than combining two cold ingredients in a bowl despite four more hours of sleep than was normal for her. In fact, the last time she’d slept this long was when she’d had chicken pox. Maybe it was the extra sleep that had worn her out, because she never felt this tired after spending all night hunting demons and napping before school.   
  
Or maybe it was the bad dreams, the dreams of Liam being trapped with her unable to rescue him.  
  
Or maybe what had sapped her strength, and her spirit, was being angry at her best friend for doing the kind of terrible thing Willow had never thought she could do.  
  
Oh gosh! Was Liam okay? She hadn’t even gone in to check on him this morning.   
  
She was about to get up and leave the rest of her cereal to get soggy and gross when he surprised her by walking into the kitchen. “Hey,” she said, wondering what exactly she should say. He didn’t look well-rested, but then again – vampire. Not like she was really an authority on what dead people looked like when they first woke up. “Did you sleep okay?”  
  
Should he answer honestly? She didn’t look like her night had been any more pleasant and restful than his. He shrugged. “I slept about as well as I expected.” That was a kind of honesty, just not straightforward.  
  
“Do you want some blood? I can heat some up for you,” she said and she made to get up, but he gestured for her to stay seated.  
  
“I can get it if you tell me where the mugs are.”  
  
“They’re in the center cupboard above the microwave.” She sounded grateful not to have to get up and it made him ache inside. He hated that she’d suffered too because of what had happened yesterday… but he had to admit that a part of him was already finding a silver lining – this chance to be with her all the time.  
  
He retrieved the largest mug he could find. It was solid and tan and if he had to guess, he’d say it was used by her father. It had a dull masculinity that certainly put it outside the realm of Willow’s taste. Finding his blood was simple, and the microwave was also in plain view. About the same age as Angel’s, he guessed, so he put his blood in for the same number of seconds.  
  
It didn’t take long and then he had a cup of something he hadn’t noticed last night – human blood. It was more sustaining than pig and he was glad of it, even if there was a certain guilt that the blood he was drinking wasn’t going to humans with medical needs. He ruthlessly fought back the memories of the humans from whom his captors had sometimes forced him to drink when he was their slave. This was nothing like that.   
  
“Did you get any sleep?” he asked.  
  
“Me? Oh yeah.” She’d zoned out while he was drinking and she felt like the world’s worst hostess. “Did you?” And then she remembered… “I kind of asked that already, didn’t I? Sorry.” She crimsoned, but he didn’t seem mad and that was a good thing.  
  
“It’s okay. Last night was rough.”  
  
That was the understatement of the century, wasn’t it? “Yeah.” Did he want to talk about it? “I faded pretty early and all. If you need to talk…”  
  
He sat down at the kitchen table next to her and looked like he was mulling the matter for a minute. “I think that might be a good idea.”  
  
  
To be continued…


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Feral (Chapter Sixteen)  
  
  
  
Willow sat across from Liam, waiting. Yes, he’d just said he wanted to talk, but so far, he hadn’t actually said anything else. Was she supposed to ask questions or something?   
  
Then he spoke. “I was scared,” he said softly, “when I saw the torture tools.”  
  
That made sense. Anybody would have been scared, seeing those things. Heck, just looking at them had made _her_ nervous – and no one had even threatened to use them on her. But she got the impression there was a little more to it. “Did the other me…?” She paused, taking a deep breath, not sure she wanted to ask a question she was absolutely sure she didn’t want to hear the answer to. This was about Liam, though, and helping him. So she asked. “Did she use those on you?”  
  
He nodded. “And Xander.”  
  
Oh god. Tortured by not one, but two evil vampires. That had to have been horrible. Worse than horrible. She reached across the table, taking his hand. “I’m sorry,” she said cautiously, but it sounded like words this time and so it was okay.  
  
Liam wasn’t so lost in his painful recall that he couldn’t see the guilt in Willow’s eyes. “It wasn’t you.”  
  
“I know. And this isn’t about me, you know. This is about you.” Then her expression darkened. “I still can’t believe Angel did this to you. I mean, he’s been to _Hell_. You’d think he’d be more sympathetic about post-traumatic stress disorder and stuff.” Angel had been to Hell? He guessed his curiosity showed on his face, because Willow went on. “When he lost his soul, he raised this demon to suck the world into Hell. The thing is, right after he did that, I managed to give him his soul back, but it was too late. Buffy had to stab him and send him into the portal in order to close it or there would have been Hell on Earth.”  
  
Willow’s answer left him with an infinite number of questions, but he didn’t think she had the information he wanted. Some knowledge had to be ferreted out with cunning and guile, anyway – it could never be found by straightforward means. Therefore, he decided not to probe further and merely replied with a flat, uninflected “Oh.” What else, really, was there to say?  
  
Funny –not ‘ha-ha’ funny, but ‘strange’ funny – that until today Willow hadn’t really thought about the wounds and scars Angel must, like Liam, be carrying… and now that she was thinking about it, the idea just made her angrier at Angel than she had been before. She meant what she said – he, out of all of them, should have known, should have understood. She remembered wondering if the soul she gave him was working right and she wondered that same thing all over again. Or had going to Hell been the Joker in the deck? Had it burned his humanity out of him?  
  
Pfft. Like worrying about Angel was even important. She’d leave that to Buffy – though hey: bang up job so far. Liam, though, was the one she cared about and so she turned her attention back to him. “I won’t make you go back there – to stay with Angel, I mean. In case you were worried about that.”  
  
“I know.”   
  
He still looked lost and upset. Would asking him about more of what he went through in the other Sunnydale help or hurt? And no, she was pretty sure this wasn’t something any of her parents’ books would help with. “Do you want to tell me,” she probed tentatively, “about what happened to you there? In the other Sunnydale?”  
  
Her question took him by surprise, though he wasn’t sure why. Her phrasing struck him oddly, perhaps. ‘Want.’ Did he ‘want’ to talk about? No. He wished he could forget it all. But the wounds opened into festering sores by yesterday’s events was proof that wouldn’t be happening any time soon. So… Should he talk about his ordeal?  
  
Arguments for and against ricocheted through his brain, but the choice was made when he looked into her eyes. He loved Willow, and if there was to be the smallest chance of winning her love in return, he needed to give her what he gave no one else: his trust. “Yes.”  
  
  
  
The ruined volume of Poe sat in Angel’s lap, but it had even less to say to him than the raven immortalized in its now-tattered pages. What had happened? How had this book wound up destroyed in a dusty drawer?  
  
He racked his brain. He hadn’t read this book since he’d returned from Hell, but had he seen it in the library recently? Or had it been ruined by Spike before? The bastard knew, after all, that it was one of his favorites – one of the rare books enjoyed by both Angel and his soulless counterpart – and it had been hidden beneath one of Drusilla’s petticoats.   
  
But what if it hadn’t been Spike? Why would Liam…? Had he been angry at Angel even before yesterday? Had it led him to wreck something of his?  
  
That was ridiculous, however, because Liam wouldn’t have destroyed his own favorite book – though that assumption _was_ predicated on the two of them sharing literary tastes. But after all, wouldn’t they? There were _some_ differences between them, but it stood to reason that Liam would love Poe as fervently as he did. Liam _was_ a version of him.   
  
It must have been Spike. Spike had never liked Poe, no doubt jealous of the man’s poetic gifts. Yes, it had been Spike, and the next time he saw him, the worthless prick was going to pay for this bit of petulant mayhem.   
  
Shaking his head to clear his mind, he wondered: Wasn’t it time for him to stop this selfishness? He really needed to give Liam thought that wasn’t focused on a torn book, no matter how dear it had been to him.   
  
Of course, it wasn’t really Liam’s trauma about which he was trying to keep from thinking, was it?  
  
“Hello?” Buffy’s voice cut through the stillness like one of those scalpels wrapped tightly in a blanket in the weapons chest along with the rest of his ‘tools’ and those very thoughts he was avoiding soon stood, personified, right here in this room. No place to run.   
  
“Hey,” he replied. He wanted to ask why she wasn’t at the library, researching the Ascension as he assumed everyone else was, but he didn’t. He stood up and looked at Buffy… all his misgivings and doubts crumbling at the first glimpse of those green eyes… all his misgivings and doubts simultaneously hitting him with the force of a body blow.   
  
“I just came for some blood.” Buffy fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot. This was every bit as awkward and difficult as she’d been afraid it would be, maybe even more because imagination never quite captured the knot in the pit of your stomach or the pounding in your head, did it?  
  
“I was gonna take some over there tonight.” He sounded as if that were still the plan. Uh-uh.  
  
“Well, now you don’t have to.” Her tone was more argumentative than she’d intended, but this was something she really wanted – no, _had_ – to do and Angel was acting like he was going to stop her. Sorry, but her need to fix things with Willow trumped his making nice with Liam.   
  
“We could go together,” he offered, and her heart sank. No, she couldn’t handle that. Even now, all she could see when she looked at him were his hands on Faith’s ass… and Liam’s crotch.  
  
Oh God. Had he had sex with Spike?  
  
She really, really, _really_ did not want to think about any of this stuff – not now and not ever. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she said softly, terrified of what she suddenly realized she had to say – because honesty was important and Angel deserved it. “Look, I know you only did what I asked and… and we got what we wanted.”  
  
Buffy’s words chilled the borrowed blood in Angel’s veins. No, she couldn’t… “I never wanted it to go that far.” He was ashamed of the pleading in his voice, but he couldn’t help it. He knew what was coming.  
  
“I know that,” she said in a tone that told him she didn’t know at all. “It’s not even a question of that. It’s just, after… I need a little bit of a break.” Would that be the same break that was happening to his heart right now? “I’m… I’m gonna get some blood and head over to Willow’s… Don’t go over there tonight, okay?”   
  
She headed for the kitchen as Angel called after her, “You still my girl?”  
  
She said “Always,” but it sounded like funeral bells.  
  
  
  
Maybe they should have had this conversation in the living room. It would have been… okay, nothing could actually have made it more comfortable, or comfortable at all, but at least in the living room, Liam’s terrible story wouldn’t have echoed off the tile.   
  
It wouldn’t have mattered where he told it, though, would it? Because it would have been just as painful to hear.  
  
Staring at him through the tears in her eyes, Willow wondered how he could even be sane. Could she have survived even half of what he had gone through? She didn’t think so. Being raped and tortured on a daily basis by at least two… sometimes more… Oh god.   
  
“Xander,” she said softly. It was weird. She’d known and… not accepted but… something… the things that her double had done – though hearing them in greater detail was agonizing – but finding out just how deeply Xander had been involved and just how depraved he had been… It was almost harder to see him as evil than it was to see herself that way. Maybe… no… okay, yes it _did_ reawaken the whispers which had grown quiet but never gone away completely, the ones that had told her that the stuff Xander said, the things he did, when he was possessed by the hyena spirit… They weren’t concocted by the spirit so much as pulled forth from within Xander himself.  
  
No, no, _no_. That wasn’t Xander and he wasn’t anything like the monster who raped Liam, who used holy water to make it worse, who’d forced him to watch as he… who made him…  
  
Liam’s eyes never left Willow. For a moment he wondered if he should have been as open, shared as many details, as he had. But it was done and deep down he knew he was glad. To have someone hear him, know what he’d endured, care… was he selfish? The answer was certainly yes, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a blessing to have Willow completely on his side, even if it was costing her some peace of mind…and the faith she’d once had in her friends. “Xander,” he echoed, his tone low and even.   
  
“I’m…” she shook her head, “If I say I’m sorry one more time I’m gonna sound really stupid, huh?”  
  
He shook his head, “You could never sound stupid. But you don’t have anything to apologize for.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“I’m the one who should be thanking you.”  
  
Her forehead wrinkled adorably. “What for?”  
  
“For listening to me. For being willing…”  
  
Just then, the doorbell rang. Willow almost jumped out of her chair. Who the heck could that be? Because nobody she knew rang her doorbell; they just walked right in. At least they did when they knew her parents were gone. Sometimes it was kind of annoying, but at least it was predictable. Only deliverymen rang the bell or knocked, but there weren’t too many of those, except when she ordered pizza. None of her parents’ friends or associates came around anymore. They didn’t even call. They knew better. Not like her parents spent much time here.   
  
“Guess I better get that,” she said. For a moment she thought of asking Liam to go to the door with her, but that was silly – it wasn’t even dark yet, so it couldn’t be a demon at the door… could it?  
  
It might as well have been, she thought, because when she opened the door, there was Buffy. Buffy, who she was still pretty angry at. “Hi.” She stayed in the center of the doorway, doing her best to be unwelcoming.   
  
Staring into the eyes of her very best friend, Buffy had to say her imagination had failed her again, because on the way over here she had pictured this visit beginning with a lot less hostility and a lot more Willow saying she was glad to see her because Liam was doing better and she understood now why things had to be done the way they were. Thank god she’d brought a gift with her, huh? “I thought you might need this,” Buffy said, holding out the plastic bag full of blood. Much to her relief, Willow stepped back and let her in to the house. “I… I never meant for Liam to get hurt, you know.”  
  
Willow wasn’t letting her off the hook. “You didn’t even think about him.”  
  
What was Buffy supposed to say to that? She decided to try honesty. “You’re right. I didn’t. I got kinda lost in the big picture, not that that’s an excuse, it’s just…” She set the bag on the coffee table and reached out to Willow. “This is big, Will. Really big. Faith said it’s gonna be a big, demonic bloodbath. Heck, you saw those Glovaks. What do you think they’re in town for? This is not one of those garden-variety, everyday apocalypses – lypsi? – and we’re still not nearly as prepared as we need to be, but at least now… Now we have a time-table and some clues and that’s a lot more than we had before.” She took a deep breath. “I know Liam got hurt, and if I could go back and plan things to keep him out of it, I would, but I can’t. Can’t you at least try to forgive me?”  
  
Could she? Willow wanted to, oh did she ever. She loved Buffy like a sister, but… This wasn’t being called ‘Old Reliable’ or even Buffy grinding against Xander. This was Liam being forced to relive being broken and turned into the toy of the cruelest creatures in the world. This was Liam being degraded and humiliated by his own counterpart, someone he’d trusted. Was it even up to her whether to forgive Buffy or not? “I… think you’re apologizing to the wrong person,” she said at last. “I’ll go get Liam.”  
  
She walked into the kitchen. “You probably heard – what with having the vamp hearing and all.” He nodded, and she continued. “I know I said I was coming to get you, but if you don’t want to talk to Buffy, it’s okay. I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to do.” After everything he’d been through, the least she could do was be sensitive to the issues he had to have about compulsion.   
  
For a brief moment, Liam thought of taking her up on that offer and staying away from the stake-wielding bitch in the living room, but as the fog of his emotional turmoil lifted, his perspective returned. Did he forgive the vapid whore and that pussy-whipped version of himself she was leading around by the (blue) balls? No, and he never would, but there were things going on in this town that had to be dealt with and playing at mending fences was a necessary evil in the service of a greater good. Willow – and the world – needed protecting, and if he had to be civil to those cretins for a little while… well, he could manage.  
  
Later, when the Mayor had been vanquished, he could find a way to extract some recompense from them for what they’d done to him. In the meantime, at least he had Willow… and he would when all was said and done, as well. Maybe that would be all the revenge he’d really need.  
  
“It’s okay. I can talk to her.” He allowed Willow to lead him into the living room.  
  
Oh God. Here he was. Liam. It was hard - not as bad as facing Angel had been, but it wasn’t exactly outrunning Wesley on the obstacle course either. “Hey,” she said, clearly displaying her legendary gift for witty banter. She could be excused for being off her game, right?   
  
He was as silent as Angel, but it didn’t feel the same. There was something calculated there and… Yes, she guessed she was supposed to bury the hatchet and give him a break now, after what had happened, but the truth was, standing here face to face with him, she didn’t trust him any more than she ever had. Was she sorry about what he’d been through? Yeah, sure, but she wasn’t going to twist her instincts into a pretzel in order to force herself to like this guy.   
  
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to make nice with him. “I… uh… I brought you some blood,” she said, and to illustrate her words, she picked up the bag and handed it to him.   
  
Great. Animal blood. He could smell the stink right through the bag. Obviously some porcine leftovers from Angel. Oz at least had the good taste to get the real thing. But now wasn’t the right time to be picky. “Thank you.” Only two words, but he spoke them with the gentility of manner he’d learned in a courtlier age.  
  
Buffy, obviously, had not been raised with such care. Her response was a shrug and a “No problem,” both as casual as the etiquette of her time. She was not, however, finished. “Look, I… I wanted to say I’m sorry.” What Liam wanted to do was tell her to go straight to Hell and to take her boyfriend back with her as a tour guide, but instead, he merely nodded and she continued. “I… _we_ … never meant for you to be involved yesterday. I hope… I hope you’re okay now and that we can put this behind us. No hard feelings?”  
  
While Willow winced at that last part, she was really glad to see Buffy apologizing. And hey! When Buffy held out her hand, Liam took it. They shook hands! Yay! Of course, what he said to her was sort of equivocal.  
  
“We have bigger things to worry about.”  
  
But Buffy nodded and so, hey, at least this meant they’d be getting along. And Willow guessed she understood why Liam wasn’t completely on board the forgiveness train. With what he’d gone through, not just yesterday, but back in his world… Yeah, she’d probably have lingering trust and anger issues, too.  
  
Time to change the subject to that bigger thing she figured Liam had been referring to. “So, did you guys found out anything more about the Ascension while I was gone today?”  
  
Buffy shook her head, though she did admit, “My head wasn’t really in the game today, what with the Willow-missage.” She smiled, hoping Willow understood that she wasn’t blaming her or anything. “Anyway, Giles is going to try to find a bunch more dusty old books for us to go through, so…”  
  
“Did Oz tell you what we found out at the Hall of Records?”  
  
In all the craziness of the post-plan day, Buffy had actually forgotten what Willow and Oz had gone to do. “No. I… You guys found out stuff?”  
  
Willow looked almost excited. “Oh boy, did we ever. You know how Mayor Wilkins is supposed to be the descendent of a long line of Sunnydale mayors? Turns out the line isn’t so long, after all. He’s the only Mayor we’ve ever had.”  
  
While Buffy had pretty much already figured that out, what with what Faith had said about him having built this town, the last thing she wanted to do was rain on Willow’s parade, so she mustered up a very convincing “Wow. Good work, Will” and was grateful for the smile she got in return.  
  
It felt good to have been useful despite having played hooky today – though with very good cause. Then the doorbell rang again and Willow almost jumped out of her skin. Twice in one day? This was too weird. And this time she had that ooky, stomach-sinky feeling that she figured was sort of like what Buffy called her ‘spider senses’. Should she even answer the door at all this time? Guess she kind of had to, huh? Especially since Buffy was looking at her sort of expectantly. Liam probably didn’t care, though maybe he was curious too and… Okay, maybe she should just stop being thinky and go answer the door.  
  
The moment she opened it, she wished she hadn’t. Not after what Liam had been telling her just a few minutes ago. Oh God. This might not be good at all.  
  
There was nothing she could do about it now, though.  
  
“Hey, Xander.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Feral (Chapter Seventeen)  
  
  
  
Xander was here.  
  
Flashes of memory – the degrading horror of which he’d only barely communicated to Willow – remained in the front of Liam’s thoughts and it was all he could do to keep his demon’s face from emerging at the sight of one who looked – who _was_ – so much like his tormentor. He schooled his face into stoic expressionlessness, however, and stayed silent. The Slayer – Buffy – was watching him.   
  
He nodded in greeting as Xander entered the room. If only… But he couldn’t very well tell Willow that the Xander of this world closely resembled what he’d seen of the one in his world even before the boy had been turned, not without reviving her own painful fears. And he couldn’t do that to the girl he loved.  
  
“So, how’s it going?” Xander’s concern was ridiculously false and Liam had no idea how to respond without misstepping, either. So he just nodded again. It would serve, he supposed.   
  
“We were just talking about the Mayor,” Willow offered, trying for a safe topic and hoping Xander wouldn’t bring up anything uncomfortable on his own.  
  
It was a vain hope. “Yeah. What’s Faith’s sugar daddy up to?” Thanks for mentioning the “F” word, Xander. And of course, he didn’t stop there. “Do we know if they’re doing the wild monkey dance, by the way? Because charging the Mayor with statutory rape might stop this whole Ascension thing dead in its tracks.” And thanks for bringing sex into the discussion, because boy did Liam need that right now.  
  
Buffy’s eyes were on Liam through this whole exchange. Was it her imagination or had Liam’s eyes flashed gold when Xander walked in? What was up with that?   
  
Come to think of it, he’d always been kind of stand-offish and unfriendly to Xander and she wondered why. Because he didn’t seem to have had any problem forgiving Willow for what her skanky vamp double had done and, let’s face it, it had to have been worse than anything Xander’s counterpart had managed, didn’t it? No offense to Xander, but…  
  
She suddenly had a flashback to what Xander had tried to do to her when he was possessed by the hyena spirit – a memory she’d successfully repressed for years. The way he’d held her down, the threats he’d made, the threats he’d almost carried out.  
  
Okay, maybe demon-possession didn’t exactly bring out Xander’s best qualities, but that didn’t mean…  
  
Another flashback, this time to Angel’s hand on Liam’s crotch.  
  
Oh god.   
  
She was now officially worried about this guy, because he was obviously carrying around some major trauma-baggage – more major than she’d thought. And yeah, it did make her understand his reaction yesterday a lot better. It almost…  
  
But it didn’t. Despite her sympathy, she didn’t trust Liam and she didn’t like him – her instincts just wouldn’t allow it. She also had to admit that she resented him for reminding her that underneath Xander’s goofy, fun-loving goodness was stuff she’d rather not think about. That was so not what she needed right now.  
  
“I’m sure the Mayor has enough control over the local police and prosecutors that having him arrested is impossible,” Liam all but spat out. Xander was a moron.   
  
The boy seemed hurt by his terse shut-down of his idiotic idea, but Liam found it hard to care… though he did care about Willow’s reaction. Luckily, she appeared to understand. “Yeah, I’m not so sure that the same cops who blame all those vamp deaths on biker gangs are gonna be much help, Xan.”  
  
Xander shrugged and looked slightly abashed, but Liam caught a resentful glance directed at him for a split second. It confirmed what he’d already known and he fought the urge to chuckle. Here it was Liam who had the upper hand in their war and so it would remain.   
  
Wonder what the vampire was doing now? What did he think about the fact that Liam’s final death had been snatched away from him… and what would he think if he knew that the so-very-different counterpart of his consort had been the one to save his favorite prey?  
  
“We’re gonna have to defeat the Mayor the old-fashioned way… I came, I slayed, I conquered,” Buffy interjected, and Liam boggled at her self-centeredness. He’d only been here a short time, but he’d already come to the conclusion that her success had a whole lot to do with her support staff.  
  
Willow chuckled ruefully at Buffy’s wit, because – hey – they still had no idea how to actually slay this guy. Still, once they did, she had no doubt that Buffy could do the job. She began musing about the future political landscape. “Wonder who’ll run for Mayor once this guy’s toast. It’s been so long since there’s been any serious opposition. I think the last guy who tried running got ripped apart the week before the election. Might take some convincing to get anyone to believe it’s safe to be a candidate.”   
  
“Maybe Mom will run,” Buffy replied. “As the mother of the Slayer, she’d probably feel pretty well-protected.”  
  
“What about Giles?” Willow countered. “Oh, except there’s kind of a citizenship issue there, huh?”  
  
Xander added, “On the plus side, that at least means Wesley can’t run.” Willow smiled. The conversation was now lightening up nicely... until Xander had to speak up again. “So, guess now that everything’s okay, Liam will be moving back to Angel’s place.”  
  
“Not right now, no,” Willow interjected, throwing in her Resolve Face for good measure. Again she was wishing he hadn’t come over tonight. Why was he here anyway? Not that she could ask without seeming like kind of a jerk, but still… The truth was that their friendship hadn’t really recovered from the fluke and she wasn’t sure it ever would.   
  
“But Oz said…”  
  
Buffy glared at Xander but it was too late. The damage was done and Willow rounded on him. “Oz? Oz said what?”  
  
And of course Xander was more cowed by Willow’s Resolve face than _her_ Slayer Stare. “That he talked to Buffy and told her she should bring some blood over and…”  
  
“Xander,” Buffy hissed, knowing even as she did it that she had just made things a lot worse. Anyway, why was she feeling guilty? It was perfectly okay to get advice when you had a fight with a friend, right? Except she knew Willow wasn’t going to see it that way.  
  
“Oz? Oz told you to bring the blood?” For some reason, knowing that Buffy’s gesture wasn’t spontaneous or heartfelt or even her own idea ruined everything – and the fact that Oz had been part of this conspiracy made her even madder. He knew how she felt. He should have been on her side, understanding her anger, not giving Buffy tips on how to butter her and Liam up. It was like he’d never been on her side at all, like he’d just been mollifying her or something, patting her on the head while all the while he thought she was wrong.   
  
“Will, I…”  
  
“No, no. It’s okay. I get it.”   
  
Liam stood on the sidelines, watching, assessing. On the one hand, he was overjoyed. Appearances to the contrary, he hated Angel and his Slayer-bitch as much as ever. The same went for Xander. Also, Willow’s separation from her worthless, so-called friends and that pathetic mongrel of a boyfriend would give him the chance to win her affections unimpeded. But on the other hand… “Why don’t we get back to trying to figure out more about the Mayor and this Ascension?” There would, after all, be no hope at all if Willow was in mortal danger.  
  
  
  
Angel sat alone in his quiet house, the ruined Poe forgotten in the wake of Buffy’s abandonment. His emotions were in total disarray. On the one hand, he understood her fear and loathing of the side of him that she had now seen completely for the first time, but on the other hand…  
  
This whole thing had been _her_ idea. He had actually spoken against it at first. It was Buffy who had urged him to play the role and to take it as far as he had to for the greater good, and now she was penalizing him for doing exactly as she’d asked.  
  
Funny how giving Buffy what she wanted always left him demonized on one level or another.   
  
Loving her was sometimes more painful than anything he’d endured for all those centuries in Hell, but it was as inevitable and ineradicable as the sunrise each day.   
  
How had Liam slipped her traces? Was she so very different in his world? Or was Liam just that different from _him_? Or was it a combination of both? Or…?  
  
Dammit, he wanted to make peace with the man, to let him know that he truly was sorry for making him part of this twisted scheme, and while he knew and respected the fact that Buffy wanted to have some time with Willow… No, he wasn’t going to wait. Buffy could just grow up and deal with his presence. Especially since his help would certainly be needed to deal with the Ascension.  
  
Heading for the kitchen to have a fortifying mug of blood, he felt better. Liam, while different from him, was a _version_ of him and therefore would more than likely understand and forgive a great deal more easily than Buffy had. He’d see the big picture and understand about the demon.  
  
Inside of himself there was a whisper of doubt – had _he_ , after all, actually forgiven what he wanted so badly to believe he had? – but he ignored it. Instead of letting himself get dragged down into the morass of introspection, he drank down his blood, rinsed the mug, and then headed out the door.   
  
  
  
“Well that could have gone better,” Buffy said, kicking a rock.  
  
“Sorry,” Xander offered. He was sincere and it wasn’t like he’d told Willow anything that _should_ have been a secret. It was just…  
  
Willow was touchy about stuff and Buffy had grown used to that, even finding it endearing sometimes, just not now. Definitely not now. Yes, they seemed to have mostly smoothed things over by the time they left – and the fact that she had Liam to thank for that could not be more weird or uncomfortable – but there was still this awkward undertone that made her wonder if she should call Oz and give him a heads up.  
  
“Look, she’s really gonna be okay. I promise. It’s just all this wackiness getting to her. Like graduation. She’s been looking forward to it since the first grade and now, thanks to Mayor Dick, it might be turned into one big apocalypse with no valedictorian speech. For Willow, that’s the worst ‘worst case scenario’ ever. We just have to accept that she’s going to be sort of on the basket case side for a little while.”  
  
When Xander put it that way… “Thanks.” Because he made sense. “You’re right.” But did she really believe it? Her spider senses were still going nuts when it came to Liam and even though he’d played peacemaker… You know, she really needed to listen to Giles sometimes. Even on the Hellmouth, hoofbeats could be horses and not zebras – or those weird demons with the hooves she’d had to kill that time when the Sisterhood of Jhe… Back on track, Buffy. “She’ll be back to her old self again any day now.”  
  
Maybe Willow would, too, but would Buffy? She still had those uncomfortable hyena-memories in her mind now – thanks again, Liam – and she wondered if Xander noticed that she was walking just a bit farther away from him than usual.  
  
The conversation turned, by unspoken mutual consent, to mocking speculation on how Wesley was breaking the news about Faith to the Council. And it stayed there until they got to Xander’s door. Tomorrow, Buffy was sure, she would wake up and all the bad memories would be back in Repression-Land where they belonged. Then the only one she didn’t trust would be Ang… Liam. The way it should be. “Good night,” she said to Xander’s retreating figure, waiting to see the door close behind him and wincing at the sound of a loud voice asking where he’d been.  
  
Tonight wasn’t ending happily for anyone, was it?  
  
  
  
Liam was back in the kitchen with Willow, watching as she scoured the cupboards for food, finally settling on something she called ‘Cup-a-Soup.’ “It’s my fault,” she said grimly as she emptied a packet of dubious-looking powder into a mug and put a kettle of water on the stove, “I should have gone to the store today. I mean, I could order pizza, but I’m sick of it. Plus, I always feel guilty if I order stuff at night. It kind of puts the delivery people at risk, you know?”  
  
“I could go to the store with you,” he offered, not at all confident that what she was making was in any way edible. He’d come to accept canned food and frozen food as things humans could sustain themselves with, but powdered food? No, surely that wasn’t nutritious in the slightest. He’d allow the others to eat it if they so desired, but not Willow. “You need to take care of yourself and _that_ ,” he indicated the mug, “can’t possibly be healthy.”  
  
Willow got the Lipton’s box back out of the cupboard to try to argue his point, but a look at the nutritional information was depressing. Apparently all it had to offer was 4 percent of her daily allowance of Vitamin A and 2 percent of her required Iron. That was it? She sighed as she replaced the box without a word and went to another cabinet. “Look, I’ll take an extra multi-vitamin, okay?”  
  
He just kept staring and she sighed again. “Fine," she said as she went and turned off the stove, "let’s go to the store.”  
  
Just then, the doorbell rang. Again. This had to be a record. She looked at Liam, asking for permission to answer it, she supposed. They’d already been through a lot today. He seemed okay with it, though.  
  
Nodding in response to her unspoken question, Liam walked with Willow to the living room and watched as she opened the door. He could sense who it was before he saw him. “Angel,” he greeted before either Willow or his double could say a word.   
  
“Can I come in?” Angel asked Willow, mindful of the fact that he’d long ago lost his invitation to her home. He’d killed her fish and… Did she know that he’d gone through her things? Stolen a pair of her panties?  
  
“Come in, Angel,” Willow replied. His fears about what she might remember were exacerbated by the fact that she didn’t sound terribly friendly or excited to see him. He was probably being melodramatic, he realized, because what she really sounded like was tired. It was easy to deduce that the meeting with her friends hadn’t gone as swimmingly as he might have hoped. He already knew that Buffy was no longer here; he’d spotted her on the way and taken a side route to avoid her and her companion – interacting with Xander would only have made his mood worse – and the fact that they had left Willow's house so early meant that there hadn’t been one of those Ben-and-Jerry’s-and-Indian-TV-parties about which Buffy had told him more than once, the parties that meant all was well with the so-called ‘Scooby Gang.’  
  
“Thanks.” His eyes met those of the one he was really here to see. They were unreadable. He’d been told more than once that you couldn’t see his feelings if he didn’t want you to and he wished that was one trait he and Liam _didn’t_ have in common.   
  
Liam's nerves were raw from making nice with the bottle blonde bimbo-with-a-stake and this world’s version of that hateful cretin, Xander, and he wasn’t sure he could keep his cool through another visit from an enemy, but he had missed his chance to say no so he’d just have to find the strength and cunning somewhere inside. He thought of what would happen if Angel went running to Buffy with tales of an unfriendly vampire in Willow’s house and the warning bells that set off in his brain fortified him enormously. “Thank you for the blood,” he offered.   
  
Okay, it hadn’t actually occurred to Willow before now that Buffy might have gotten the blood from Angel, but… She guessed she should have. Not like Buffy would have thought to go to Willie’s or spend her own money or anything and… God, she was really, really bitter right now, wasn’t she? Maybe she was even kind of _excessively_ bitter. It’s not like it was so very terrible that Buffy asked Oz for advice or that Oz gave it, or even that she'd gotten blood from Angel, was it? So why did she feel like it was?   
  
Was it the stuff Liam had told her about what Buffy and Oz were like where he was from? They sure hadn’t been much good. Or was it…? But Angel and Liam were talking now and she really needed to pay attention because it was pretty rude for a hostess to ignore her guests.   
  
“… we mostly went over what we’ve learned about the Ascension,” Liam was saying. Guess Angel had asked about what had happened when Buffy was here.  
  
“I wish we’d learned more but Faith didn’t know anything else.”  
  
“She didn’t strike me as a details kind of girl,” Liam agreed. Which begged the question of why the plan had been hatched to begin with. But he figured Buffy wanted the chance to get one over on the competition and Angel was too pussy-whipped to poke holes in her shoddy logic. As for Giles… Watchers were all of a piece – they liked to watch. And in Liam’s experience that meant they were pretty much worthless. Especially when they put their two cents in when the world was on the line and… No, he wasn’t full of the forgiving spirit right now.  
  
But rather than add another observation, Angel grew silent. He saw the man cast a quick glance at Willow and he could see that he wanted Willow to leave the room so he could offer his own version of his arm candy’s pathetic apology. Tough. Making Angel comfortable was the last thing Liam cared about. In fact… “Why don’t we all sit down?” he suggested, guiding Willow to the sofa and waiting for her to take a seat before he joined her, maintaining a decorous distance but still beside her.  
  
Angel fought back the urge to sigh. He’d hoped that he could have a talk with Liam privately, but obviously that was not going to happen. This was awkward. He selected a chair and sat, however. “I wanted to apologize,” he began somewhat clumsily. “I should have told you. There’s no excuse. It was wrong to put you through…” His voice trailed off. What else could he say?  
  
His apology was easily the most sincere Willow had heard yet, but it wasn’t up to her to say whether Liam would accept it, was it? Because he’d told her about the things Angel had done and they were… bad, really bad. She reached over and put her hand on Liam’s arm, letting him know she was there for him. But Liam surprised her. He reached across the coffee table and held out his hand. Willow watched as Angel took it. Wow. Liam was a better person than she was, she realized. Here he was forgiving Angel for a lot worse than Buffy and Oz had done. She really needed to learn from him.  
  
Angel’s fingers closed around Liam’s hand and he shook it, so grateful for the absolution he was being offered. There was more he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak freely in front of Willow. While tonight might not have been the love-fest Buffy had hoped for, he was too aware of the closeness the two girls shared to feel confident that Willow wouldn’t reveal what he had to say to her best friend.   
  
Still, at least he’d done this much – he’d mended fences with Liam to some degree. He got up. “I should go.”  
  
Already? But Angel was kind of the king of mystery and short visits, wasn’t he? So Willow got up and smiled at him. “Thanks for coming by,” she said brightly as Liam followed her while she escorted Angel to the door. She thought of giving him a hug, but they weren’t really hug-buddies, were they? Giving him his soul hadn’t made them as close as you might think. So she settled for saying “Be careful,” and watching as he walked down the front path to the sidewalk before closing the door.  
  
“Well,” Willow said sort of cheerfully as she turned to face Liam, “that went pretty…”  
  
“Sniveling bastard!” Liam spat.  
  
Oh.   
  
  
  
To be continued…


	19. Chapter Eighteen

  
Feral (Chapter Eighteen)  
  
  
  
“Sniveling bastard!”  
  
Liam’s outburst stunned Willow. Hadn’t he just… “I thought you just forgave him.”  
  
“We still have to defeat the Mayor.” For a moment, his answer sounded like a _non sequitur_ , but then she got it. It was kind of like the night she’d caught Xander and Cordelia.   
  
Okay. She felt like she got Liam’s reasoning, but… She’d been honest with Xander that night; she’d told him that they weren’t okay but that she was putting her anger aside for the greater good. That was very different from Liam lying to Angel and saying he forgave him when he didn’t.  
  
But was it fair to compare the two situations? Because, yeah, watching Xander stick his tongue down the throat of the Queen of Mean had hurt, but could it honestly compare to being a recent torture victim threatened with more of the same? In her whole life she had never been in anywhere near the same bad place emotionally that Liam was. Maybe confrontation was something he just couldn’t handle right now. Could she blame him? Not if she was being fair, no.   
  
Now that she thought about it, something else occurred to her. “You’re still angry at Buffy, too, huh.”  
  
She was a clever girl, his love. He looked into her eyes and what he saw… He could be honest. She might not like it, but she’d accept it. “We’re not friends. Not that we were friends before, but no… I’m not okay with what she did. Not yet.” What he really meant was ‘not ever’, but he wasn’t sure Willow was ready for that. Still… there was a way to prepare the ground. He’d seen it in her eyes, heard it in the way she’d reacted to hearing about Oz. “You’re not happy with her either.”  
  
Emotion swirled behind her eyes. Pain, anger – betrayal, too. Liam could see it all. But what she said was, “Maybe. I mean, I get why she went to Oz, it’s just…”  
  
He fought to keep from crowing. “So it’s Oz. You don’t think he should have…”  
  
“No, it’s okay. They’re friends – sort of, anyway – and I can see, but…”  
  
“But,” he prodded gently.  
  
“But it’s just that I thought he understood that I was mad at her and that he agreed with me, you know? And now I don’t… I know I’m being silly and wrong and stuff, it’s just…”  
  
Tread lightly, Liam. “It’s not silly. You just wish he’d said something to you first if he thought you should mend fences with Buffy.” The wheels were turning in Liam’s head. Had Oz tumbled to his feelings? Did he know that he had a potential rival for Willow’s affections?  
  
She kept talking “Maybe he still isn’t sure about us – that he can talk to me about things. I mean, yeah, he forgave me, but…”  
  
Liam felt the borrowed blood in his veins turn to ice. He wasn’t sure why, but warning bells were going off in his head. As much as something told him he wouldn’t like the answer, he heard himself ask, “Why would Oz need to forgive you?”  
  
Willow reddened and looked everywhere but at him when she answered and her words were halting. “There was… Xander and I sort of had this kind of ‘fluke’ and Oz and Cordelia caught us.”  
  
  
  
Back inside his own home, Angel felt lonely again. It was painful the way just knowing that Buffy wouldn’t be here again – at least not soon – made the emptiness emptier. He had never been this aware of how much he depended on just the _idea_ of her to make his existence bearable.   
  
In the meantime, Liam was at Willow’s house – drinking blood in her kitchen, talking about… What did they talk about? Anything and everything it seemed.  
  
In a few short days, Liam had managed to build a fuller life for himself in Sunnydale than Angel had in many months and it was… Being jealous of – not himself, but something like it – yes, it was strange and uncomfortable and he couldn’t with any justice begrudge a creature who’d suffered…  
  
But Angel had been to Hell. To _Hell_. That was suffering. Suffering on a scale Angel rarely allowed himself to remember. And here he was, all alone with no one to whom he might unburden himself. It wasn’t…  
  
Anyone’s fault but his own. As much as he wanted to cry out that it wasn’t fair and drown himself in self-pity, he couldn’t lie to himself on that score. He’d focused so completely on Buffy that he’d never made room for friendship of any kind. Love, he’d thought, was all that mattered. Love and redemption.  
  
He’d been wrong. Was Liam smarter than he was? According to his double, he’d never found Buffy more than passably attractive, let alone felt that thunderbolt which had struck Angel’s soul the first time he ever saw her. How could that be?  
  
Of course, Buffy had been different there, hadn’t she? She hadn’t come to Sunnydale until long after the Harvest, had allowed the town to fall to the Master and the vampires who followed him. That wasn’t his girl. All right, yes, she complained at times and he knew she often yearned for that elusive ‘normal life’, but he also knew that when the chips were down, she was a Slayer, through and through. She wasn’t the girl who’d never caught Liam’s eye – she was the girl who had stolen his heart and, no matter what, was never going to let it go.  
  
But he was a vampire, a creature whose heart was literally dead.   
  
Where were his thoughts leading? He had no idea. They were chaos and noise and a maelstrom in his mind. He was pacing, he realized, running his hand anxiously through his hair.   
  
Tai Chi.  
  
How long had it been since he’d found his center, his peace? Too long. But there was no time like the present to rectify that, because now he needed it more than ever. Everything he’d gone through in the past few days had left him utterly at sea and without focus. Tai Chi was the only thing he could think of to put the pieces of himself back together. He shed his shirt and his shoes and took a symbolic breath – a gesture to calm himself.   
  
Then he began the movements.   
  
  
  
Willow was scanning Liam’s expression, trying to figure out what he was thinking. Could her timing have been any worse? Bringing up the fluke had forced her to explain it – and right after she’d heard all about all the evil, despicable things Xander’s counterpart had done to Liam. She could only imagine… No, she couldn’t and she knew it. “Are you okay?” she asked after a few more moments of tortured silence.   
  
It took another really long moment for him to answer, and then when he did, she wasn’t quite sure what he meant. “It’s not your fault.”  
  
He didn’t seem to hate her, and Willow figured that was good. Not just for her, but for him. She was Liam’s only friend and she wasn’t sure what he’d do if he were all alone. Where would he even live? “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Which was true, but she suddenly realized that now he might want her to explain that and then she’d end up bringing up…  
  
Was she ever going to not get stuff wrong?   
  
Willow’s eyes were sad and troubled and Liam felt for her. He meant what he said, as well. She’d given him enough of the backstory for him to understand exactly what had happened – Xander had taken advantage of her, using her naïve schoolgirl crush and her boyfriend’s failings to have a taste of the cake he hadn’t fancied until it was on someone else’s plate. And letting her wind up in the clutches of Spike? Spike, who could have ripped her throat out or worse?  
  
Xander was a prick in any version of Sunnydale; Liam had already discerned that. It was only fortunate that none of the vampires here had seen fit to turn him. He did enough damage as a human. Why he was considered a friend by any of the others, let alone an ally in the fight against the forces of darkness, was something Liam had a very difficult time understanding. He was selfish, malevolent, unintelligent, and pathetically incapable of holding his own against even the weakest of demons. He was useless and it was clear that he’d been playing on the Slayer’s sympathies in order to remain protected and safe and yet a part of the core team.  
  
It was ridiculous.  
  
Still, Liam hadn’t discerned any _significant_ affection on Buffy’s part, nothing out of the common, and Angel seemed indifferent, so… Not that he would do anything to the boy – no. But Sunnydale was a dangerous place. Anything could happen. Luck and friendship could only serve a human boy of no martial gifts so well against the hordes of demons that were even now converging on this town.  
  
“It’s all right.” Liam’s words came about a minute later than Willow was expecting a reply, but they were kind of a relief since they weren’t the question she’d been dreading.  
  
“Do you want some blood?” Of course her stomach had to growl the moment she said it.  
  
“I seem to recall we were going to get you some food before all those visitors started showing up.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed. All these talks and confrontations had made her tired. She honestly didn’t feel like walking all that way. “I’m sort of beat,” she said, but his expression was one that said she wasn’t going to win, not even if she brought out her Resolve Face. Of course there was always…  
  
“I guess we could borrow my parents’ car,” she offered with some trepidation. It felt like stealing so she’d only done it once before – when it was raining and she’d had a sort of ‘female emergency’. Would an obdurate vampire count as an emergency too? “I’m just not sure they’d be okay with me driving it. I mean, I have my license and all, it’s just… I never really asked them about it.”  
  
She could drive? Why didn’t she have a car of her own then? Because judging by the home and by the collection of Hummel figurines he’d seen in the dining room, her parents could afford to furnish her with transportation. He said nothing about the matter, however, merely replying, “We’ll only be going to the store.”  
  
“Oh, and Willy’s.”  
  
Willy’s?  
  
His confusion clearly showed on his face because she immediately explained “I sort of saw the look on your face when Buffy brought the butcher shop blood. I figure, with everything you’ve been through, you deserve the good stuff and I’m guessing human is sort of the vampire version of steak and pig is… probably more like Burger King.”  
  
He was lost. How he had been able to fall harder he didn’t know, but he had. She was so sweet and considerate – and the fact that she seemed to easily accept him drinking human blood was… It was obviously more than Angel got from his precious Buffy. But he kept his feelings in check. “Thanks.” He paused and smiled at her. “Shall we go?”  
  
She smiled back. “Just let me get my purse and the car keys.” He watched as she bounded up the stairs. Even when she was tired, she did everything with energy.   
  
Not for the first time, he thought about what that would be like if they made love.  
  
  
  
Morning was here and, despite Willow’s willingness to play hooky for another day, Liam had insisted she not skip school. Besides, he wanted her to talk to Giles, see if he had any suggestions that might help their research. She could call him and let him know so he could get started on his own computer. They’d set up a signal so he’d know she was the one calling – a sad sort of show, he well knew, because she’d all but admitted that the friends who already knew he was staying there were the only people who ever called. Not her parents; never her parents.  
  
Well, just because he didn’t have any further details, that didn’t mean he couldn’t do a bit of exploring on his computer. Before leaving, Willow had hooked up his laptop to the internet so now all he had to do was turn it back on and he could surf to his heart’s content. He was really looking forward to it, actually.   
  
A few keystrokes and mouse clicks and here he was. It was almost like the first time Ted had shown him how to get online. The dizzying array of sites and information had dazzled him. They did now as well. The internet was just as glorious here as it had been at home.  
  
Wow. Amazon had a bigger selection than he remembered and ebay was monstrous. Amazing how both sites had grown. Clicking through the collectibles section on the latter site, he wondered about the common sense of anyone who would buy autographed memorabilia online and trust in its authenticity. But if someone was foolish enough to buy a pig in a poke… And it certainly seemed that many people were.  
  
After a few minutes, though, he decided to stop mindlessly wading through the auction listings and try looking for the message boards he’d once frequented. Then he remembered something Willow had told him and checked the bookmarks. She’d left behind links for a number of occult-related sites. How kind.   
  
One thing had changed – site design had become a great deal more attractive. He was pleased by the more functional layouts, the more attractive fonts, and the almost total absence of the kind of neon backgrounds guaranteed to give a creature with enhanced sight a migraine. Progress was a good thing.  
  
He checked a message board that was second on Willow’s list. A fair mix of types posting there: kids who thought it was all some sort of Dungeons and Dragons-type game, religious fanatics voicing their condemnations of the occult in ALL CAPS – the sort of thing Liam had learned was considered the equivalent of shouting, and a few genuinely useful contributors who knew what went on in the dark. He scanned recent posts for any mention of the Ascension.   
  
There was one comment, but it offered precious little help. All it contained was a rather strongly-worded warning to anyone in the Sunnydale area to get out of town… as far out of town as they could manage and as fast as they could manage it.   
  
Oh, and it was from someone claiming to be a Brachen demon.   
  
So it seemed not even all demons were excited about what was in store. Liam filed that information away, thinking it might prove useful at some point, and then he went back to checking sites. Somewhere, there had to be some real buzz about this Ascension.  
  
  
  
Willow had loved school all her life. She’d once come to school with a fever of 102 because she couldn’t bear to miss a day of Mythology. But right now, she wanted to be anywhere but here. Was it too much to hope that all her friends had decided to cut school today?  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Yes it was, because Oz was now standing right in front of her.  
  
“Hey,” she said in response, not feeling too witty or sparkling right now.   
  
“Where were you last night? I tried to call.”  
  
“Liam and I went to the store and to Willy’s.”  
  
“Willy’s?” He was clearly confused. “I thought Buffy…”  
  
A-ha! “I know you told her to bring blood but she brought pig and he likes a little more kosher diet.” She was trying for light banter, but she could tell that she sounded a lot more like Cordelia than Buffy right now. Guess a night’s sleep hadn’t gotten rid of the whole ‘bitterness’ thing.   
  
“You seem upset.” He looked … frankly, she couldn’t tell. She was usually able to convince herself that she understood the nuances of Oz’s impassive expressionlessness, but not today. Now he just looked like someone who wasn’t feeling anything in particular.   
  
“No. I just wish you had told me that you were on Buffy’s side, that’s all.”  
  
Okay, now there was an expression – Oz’s eyebrow actually rose and his mouth opened slightly. “I wasn’t on Buffy’s side. She just asked me…”  
  
“How to make Liam and me forget all about what she did to him. And you know, that seems a whole lot like you thinking that she did the right thing and we shouldn’t be mad.”  
  
“That’s not what it was. It was me thinking I was helping _you_.” His voice actually rose on the last word.  
  
Oh God. This was turning into a fight, wasn’t it? Was she overreacting? Probably. After all, Oz did have a point - making up with Buffy wasn’t such a bad thing. She hated fighting with her friends. But she wasn’t sure, because it still felt… She took a deep breath. “Look. I’m tired and I’m all spazzed about catching up on what I missed yesterday. This is probably a bad time to have this talk, okay?” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He didn’t pull away. That was good, right? The bell rang and she suddenly noticed that the hall was full of students. It felt claustrophobic. “We better get to first period.” He nodded and she turned to her locker. Better get her books all squared away. Later she could decide how she felt about Oz.  
  
  
  
Liam had given up on the message boards and was exploring the computer itself, seeing which programs Willow had installed besides the drawing program he had already tried, what features they had, what he could do. She had gone heavy on the art programs, he noticed. A taste for drawing, it finally occurred to him, must be something he actually shared with his counterpart. He wondered what Angel’s work looked like. Did they have similar styles?  
  
Well, it was academic for now. Pretending to forgive Angel last night was one thing, but he was in no mood to sit down for a nice, long talk with the creature who’d chained him up and threatened to violate him all in the name of getting intel that was little more than he’d just gleaned from _vampsanddemons.net_.   
  
He didn’t know what everything meant, but he was taking inventory of each file all the same. Ted had encouraged him to learn as much as he could, and to always keep track of everything on the hard drive. Viruses, he’d learned, were the demons of the virtual world. Just for the heck of it, he decided to look for hidden personal files. Not that he thought there’d be anything important for him to discover, but it was a good idea to make use of everything Ted had taught him, even if he didn’t expect to actually find anything. Willow, after all, knew what she was doing. She seemed to have been very thorough in cleaning her personal data off this computer and… Wait a minute. What was this?  
  
It was a document. The title meant nothing to him: JC SR trans. He was curious, though, so he opened it, still not expecting it to be significant in any way. It was probably just an old homework assignment of Willow’s. He smiled, sure it was something for which she’d received high marks. What subject could it be?  
  
He didn’t have to read more than the first few words before his eyes shot open wide.   
  
This was no long-forgotten school paper. It was the soul restoration spell. The one Willow had performed on Angel, the curse which most likely had been performed on _him_. It was a sign; Liam knew it was a sign. Because this was what he needed to start his other important research project. This was the key to unlocking a real future with Willow.  
  
Smiling more broadly than before, he began to read.  
  
  
To be continued…


	20. Chapter Nineteen

Feral (Chapter Nineteen)  
  
  
  
Liam perused the curse and its translation… and the notes Willow had made. It was those, in fact, which interested him most. The curse, after all, was what it was. From a literary standpoint, most spells were appalling: overwrought, deliberately obscure, and as graceful in their prose as Bulwer-Lytton. Nothing different about this one. But Willow had clearly done some analysis, slicing through the murk and miasma with her logical mind… and there was something here.  
  
It was the trail of breadcrumbs – oh it didn’t get all the way there, but it pointed in the right direction and he had a feeling he was getting home.   
  
Why, he wondered, hadn’t she followed through with her reasoning? Distraction, perhaps? Because there were tantalizing hints here, threads dangling left and right, but nothing woven together. Individual insights she never went back and put together. They were strewn over the page like puzzle pieces.   
  
Well, he was looking at them now and he could see the picture emerging before him and it told him something of which it seemed no one else was aware:  
  
The curse didn’t prevent either him or Angel from love or sex or even happiness.   
  
The truth was as plain as the curse was obfuscatory – the cursed vampire had to forget his own nature in order to lose his soul. And while having even completely casual sex with a Slayer certainly did necessitate suppressing the demon to the point of forgetfulness (Liam himself was queasy at the mere idea even in the abstract, let alone with the two specific Slayers he knew, and he could feel his demon writhe in agony), making love with a girl like Willow? His demon would offer no impediment whatsoever. He wouldn’t have to forget himself for a moment.  
  
Maybe, he thought, this was why Willow had never finished her work. She had to have pieced it together on some level, but could she have borne consciously knowing that her best friend’s beloved could be with someone else? Willow was a soft-hearted girl and Liam knew the answer – a resounding no.  
  
He didn’t feel the same. Not only because it proved to him that he had a chance at what he wanted more than anything, but that there was something spiritually satisfying in having knowledge that could crush Buffy Summers. Oh, he’d keep his weapon sheathed, but the having of it alone was a balm on the wounds she had helped to cause. And come to think of it, keeping the secret killed two birds with one stone, because it was also a bit of _actual_ revenge against Angel. His counterpart might see fit to shake off his yoke if he knew that there was happiness to be had between the thighs of some other woman… but Liam had no inclination to let him know of the actual parameters of his curse. Let him suffer with his Slayer.  
  
But now, he decided to think about more important things. Willow was upset with Oz. The first discernible rift had now appeared and he needed to properly exploit it… and to find some subtle way to induce her to see that someone far better cared for her in a way Oz never could.  
  
  
  
  
Buffy stood in the empty computer lab, feeling lost and annoyed. She’d been sure Willow would be in here; Willow was always here when she had a free period, and this was one they were lucky enough to share – which she’d hoped meant they could finish the whole ‘making up’ process she wasn’t sure they’d managed completely last night.   
  
She sighed and set her bookbag down on one of the desks. Between the surprise calculus quiz and not managing to even see Willow all morning, this day just kept sucking. Oh yeah, and there was still all the stress she was feeling about Angel.  
  
Had she done the right thing – telling him she needed a break? Her feelings changed every other minute. But every time she wavered and wanted to go to him, she’d remember the sight of Angel and Faith locked in each other’s arms and then… Yeah, she was so very not okay with that.   
  
The worst part though was that she knew she was being hypocritical and unfair. She’d asked – _ordered_ – Angel to play this game and now she was punishing him for playing to win. Deep down she wondered if she was also punishing him for the fracture in her friendship with Willow and the fact that Liam was now living at Willow’s house.  
  
If the answer began with the letter ‘y’, Buffy really didn’t want to think about it.  
  
“Hey.” A familiar voice from the doorway made her turn around.  
  
“Oz.” Did he know where Willow was?  
  
Before she could ask, though, he had a question of his own. “What happened last night?”  
  
Was that anger? Oz was inflection-impaired, but she’d known him for awhile and she was almost sure that was anger lurking beneath the surface of his expressionless face and ubiquitous monotone.   
  
Had he talked to Willow today? Was she more upset than Buffy had thought? “What do you mean?” she asked as guilelessly as she could manage. You could never go wrong answering a question with a question, right?   
  
Or could you? “Willow’s pissed,” he said and the glint in his eye told her that Willow wasn’t the only one. Great, now she had an irate werewolf on her hands. What she’d said earlier about how this day just kept on sucking? Why couldn’t she have been wrong about that?  
  
But he probably had a right to be mad. Because Buffy hadn’t really defended him too strenuously. She’d mostly been thinking about not wanting Willow mad at _her_ and… okay, she hadn’t actually thought about Oz. She got that now and she wasn’t happy about it. Boy, she was really not doing herself proud in the character department this week. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I know how touchy Willow is when she thinks people are talking behind her back and stuff. I should have told her that I pretty much badgered you into telling me how to score brownie points with Liam. I didn’t, though, and that’s my fault.” She locked eyes with him hoping he’d know she was sincere. “Look, as soon as I find her, I _will_ tell her, okay? I’ll fix this.”  
  
It might have been her imagination, but it seemed like Oz’s expression… changed?   
  
… and so did the subject. “So, Liam. What do you think?”  
  
Huh? Oh… Was someone else as suspicious of Liam as she was? Maybe something about this day was finally going to not suck because Buffy was really anxious to have someone to talk to about her least favorite vampire. She began cautiously, though, because maybe Oz was just asking how he was doing or something. “I don’t really know. He’s not all that chatty – not with me, anyway. Willow’s probably the one to ask about…”  
  
Oz interrupted her. “You trust him?”  
  
So, Oz really _was_ suspicious.   
  
  
  
Willow had stopped off at the library and gotten some research clues from Giles. There were some medieval sources worth checking out, and those were in the library, but it occurred to Willow while he was talking that somehow the word must be getting out about this Ascension through the demon grapevine. After all, why else had the Glovaks shown up? But not all demons were totally evil. Some of them seemed neutral and a few were even kind of peaceful… And that was where Liam came in.   
  
She knew where the demon chat rooms were online and she’d sometimes lurked a bit, but she could feel the crackle of energy whenever she went to one and she was terrified of what might happen to her if they got mad because a human was reading their conversations so she never dared to stay long. Oz hadn’t been able to connect either. The one time he’d tried to get into a discussion at _underworld.net_ , he’d been met with a lot of hostility. Who knew that werewolves were a persecuted minority? Turned out they were. ‘Furball’ and ‘Bathmat’ were two of the slurs Oz had told her he’d been called and even the moderator, who was the most polite demon there, had called him a ‘tourist’ – a demon who was only a demon some of the time. So there was no chance Willow could hit these guys up for information.  
  
But Liam… Liam was perfect. A vampire. He could easily talk to these guys and ask questions and get them to tell him stuff. If only she had those boards bookmarked on the computer she'd given him, but she didn't. It wasn't a big deal, though. All she had to do was call him. Which she had decided to do from the phone in the computer lab. It was bad enough that she’d gotten a lecture about the wisdom of letting a vampire live in her house; the last thing she needed was Giles getting all weird about him answering the phone. She was tired of explaining her home life over and over and it was painful the way Giles kept forgetting that her parents never called. It made her have to think about it way too much.  
  
The other thing she was thinking about now, though, was Oz. Remembering what he’d gone through in that chat room made her feel even worse about being such an oversensitive… Okay, she could admit it. She’d been kind of a bitch. She just had this… _thing_ about people not telling her how they really felt and it sometimes veered into paranoia. That was no excuse, though, because Oz didn’t deserve to suffer just because she had issues. She owed him an apology, and she pretty much owed Buffy one, too – even if she was still not too thrilled about the way her best friend had treated Liam.   
  
Once she’d finished making her phone call, she would make it a point to find them both and make amends.  
  
Her hand was on the door to the computer lab when she heard voices from inside. Darn! Now she wouldn’t be able to use the phone. A second later, though, she recognized those voices. It was Buffy. And Oz. And no, she was not going to get… Okay, she sort of was. What to do? How about, instead of going off half-cocked and being a jerk again, she just listened to what they were saying? Because she knew if she did, she’d realize it was something totally innocuous and she wouldn’t lose two of the most important people in her life.  
  
“I just think he has an agenda. My spider senses have been going off since the day he got here, and that’s never a good sign. And then there’s the other stuff. I mean, he was friends with _Ted_. That does not scream trustworthiness to me.”  
  
Oh god. Buffy was talking about Liam.   
  
This was the part where Oz was supposed to say something, to stand up for Liam. She didn’t care what those bigots in the chat room said, Oz was a demon and he understood things… right? Right?  
  
But instead what she heard was, “You gonna say anything to Willow?”  
  
“No. Not yet. I need… something. Something big and concrete. Let’s face it, Willow’s got this big blind spot where Liam’s concerned and…”  
  
That was it. That was all Willow could stand. Her worst fears were true – people really were lying to her and keeping secrets and talking behind her back. Not just any people, but Oz and Buffy people; people who really mattered to her. You know, if Buffy or Oz had just come to her, she could have explained away all the stupid doubts they had about Liam, but no, they didn’t respect her at all. She was just dumb, gullible Willow who couldn’t possibly be right about anything, let alone Liam, even though she’d spent the most time with him and knew him better than anybody.  
  
She needed to get away from this room before she burst in and confronted them and said really mean, horrible things. And yeah, okay, maybe she _should_ say them because Liam deserved to have someone stand up for him but she couldn’t, not right now. After everything she’d gone through in her head – feeling ashamed, feeling guilty… and it was confusing and bad because she sort of _had_ been wrong before but now she was right even though it was at a different time and… Oh god. She felt heartbroken and angry and sick and she wanted to cry or throw up or maybe both.  
  
She needed to leave, to be anywhere but here.   
  
Home, she guessed, was as anywhere as she could get. So, without even stopping at her locker to get the books she needed to do all her assignments, she raced out of the school.   
  
  
  
Clarity. It wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be. Because now that Angel was starting to find it, he wasn’t sure he really wanted it after all.   
  
Doing Tai Chi, alone and undistracted, had helped clear some of the fog and dissonance from his mind, but what was left… What was left wasn’t at all what he’d hoped it would be.  
  
He loved Buffy. That was as true as it had been before, but she wasn’t good for him – or he for her if he was honest. That line about loving not wisely but too well might have been written specifically for them. Something had to be done or they would drag each other down like anchors until she died or he was turned to dust. There was no future for them. They should never have had a past. And if he was _really_ honest? Soul-deep, unflinchingly honest? The fact that they couldn’t be together completely wasn’t even the main problem. It was almost a blessing. If they could? They’d just keep destroying each other because they’d never be able to let go.  
  
The pain he felt was so intense he could feel it inside his bones, but that didn’t break his resolve. He knew what he had to do.   
  
In a way, he could thank Liam for that – seeing himself, in a way, unencumbered by a love that was never meant to be, had been a glimpse into at least a kind of mirror. A mirror that showed him the other possibilities. Liam’s focus in battle the other night had been better than his own. Angel hated himself for it, but the truth was, he had allowed himself to care more when he fought with Buffy than without, and he couldn’t escape that fact. It was wrong and it convinced him that he wasn’t the warrior he wanted to be – the warrior he _had_ to be to atone for his innumerable crimes.  
  
Once the Ascension had been stopped and the Mayor defeated, he would leave Sunnydale. For good.  
  
  
  
“So?” Somehow in that one word, Oz asked a whole question and Buffy thought she got it.  
  
“So what we need to do is keep our eyes open. When you’re at Will’s, just watch him, okay? See if he does anything hinky. Because he might look like Angel and even have a soul, but I guarantee you, he is not Angel. He is _nothing_ like Angel. And we better figure out what his game is before it’s too late.”  
  
Oz’s eyes darkened and Buffy wanted to kick herself for that ‘too late’. “You think Willow’s in danger?”  
  
What should she say? No, it wasn’t like she thought Willow was really in _danger_. Not _danger_ danger, anyway. But… oh god. What if she was wrong? What if Willow _was_ in danger. What if real-live, made-of-ultimate-badness danger was living in Willow’s house right now?   
  
She took a deep breath. Liam was a creep, but he wasn’t a stupid creep. He knew that a Slayer, a werewolf, and a vampire – a stronger, better vampire than he was – had Willow’s back. No way would he try anything. Not in a world where he had no friends, no allies, and didn’t even have the money to get a bus ticket out of town if he screwed up and hurt Buffy’s best friend. “I think she’ll be okay. I don’t think he’s dumb enough to… and besides,” she thought of something cheering, “he does seem to have gotten the ‘Willow is nothing like her vamp self’ memo.” But that last thought jogged something else in Buffy’s mind. Her voice was soft and flat as she continued, “I think the one we might have to worry about is Xander.”  
  
  
  
She hadn’t really paid attention when she was walking and Willow was stunned when she realized she was heading to the mansion and not to her own house. Guess her subconscious had a lot to say today and it didn’t take her very long to figure out what it was. But was she doing the right thing? Because this seemed an awful lot like what Buffy and Oz were doing and she wasn’t too happy about them right now.   
  
However, she was almost at Angel’s front door now. Maybe she should just talk to him about other things. They did, after all, have some stuff to clear up and she could thank him for apologizing to Liam… and she could also _not_ mention that Liam still kind of hated him. Oh god. Was she being a bad friend to Liam by talking to Angel?  
  
Feeling conflicted on top of everything else, she knocked on Angel’s door.  
  
A visit from anyone during the day was unusual, but the fact that he could sense Willow outside his door was quite a surprise to Angel. Had something happened to Liam? No way to find out if he didn’t talk to her. He called out for her to come in, and she did.  
  
“Willow.” No, he didn’t succeed at keeping his shock at her visit out of his voice. It was rude, but she didn’t seem to mind.  
  
“Hi. I’m not bothering you or anything, am I?” She was as timorous around him as ever. That seemed strange to him now, seeing as how she was so close to his counterpart.  
  
He smiled to try and put her at ease. “No, of course not.” He thought he caught the faintest scent of tears, though her eyes were dry. What had upset her and was it the reason for her unexpected appearance at his home in the middle of the day? “Are you all right?”  
  
“Me?” Why did he ask her that? Keep it together, Willow. “I’m fine. I… I just wanted to thank you.” He looked really confused. Guess that made sense since she hadn’t exactly explained herself. “I mean, it was great the way you apologized to Liam last night and everything.” He was staring at her now. “Umm… so, thank you.”  
  
And he was still staring. “Is that why you’re here” One eyebrow was slightly raised and Willow recognized that as ‘the taciturn guy’s look of deep suspicion’. Oz… The guy she was so not going to think about right now had that same look sometimes.  
  
“Uh… yeah?” That would have sounded better if she hadn’t made it sound like a question, wouldn’t it?”  
  
Her obvious nerves were almost making _him_ twitch. She wasn’t much more comfortable in his presence, he realized, than she had been the night he’d visited her in her bedroom and Angel regretted again the fact that they weren’t exactly friends – not really. She’d restored his soul, and yet he’d never had a serious conversation with her. He was beginning to think that was a mistake. Liam had been able to forge a friendship with her despite her resemblance to a creature who had tortured and raped him for years; that had to mean something.  
  
Moving towards the couch, he gestured for her to sit. “You sure there isn’t something else?” he asked, knowing there had to be.   
  
She sat stiffly in a chair, knees together, back straight. “I… Have you learned anything else about the Ascension?”  
  
They were never going to get anywhere like this. “Willow, I know you didn’t come here alone in the middle of the day to talk to me about the Ascension.” Her eyes grew wide and he softened his tone before saying something he wished was true. “It’s okay. We’re friends, right?”  
  
Willow wasn’t sure what to say because her mind seized one word and went off on a tangent. Friends? Gosh, she’d never really thought… Yeah, she guessed they sort of might be. She was close friends with Liam and that was kind of like being friends with Angel, wasn’t it? Once again, she was too caught up in her thoughts to think before she spoke and her mouth got away from her despite her best intentions. “It’s Buffy and Oz. They hate Liam.”   
  
Oh no! Now she was the bad guy. How was she going to get out of this?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	21. Chapter Twenty

Feral (Chapter Twenty)  
  
  
“It’s Buffy and Oz. They hate Liam.”  
  
Huh? Buffy and Oz hated…? Angel was confused, both by Willow sharing this with him and by the idea itself. Yes, Buffy had expressed some suspicion to him, but he thought that had been cleared up by Liam saving Willow’s life and as for Oz… well that just made no sense at all to him.  
  
Of course, it was possible that Willow was overreacting to something. She was sensible most of the time, but she also had a sensitive streak, especially when it came to people she cared about.   
  
The last thing he wanted to do, however, was destroy this burgeoning friendship before it even really began. He decided that questioning her needed to be done judiciously. After all, she might well be right; Buffy had never been one for changing her opinion of people and it wasn’t like he knew Oz well at all. “Why do you think they hate him?”   
  
Darn it. Willow had sort of hoped that Angel would dismiss her statement and then she could have sidetracked herself by being offended and found an excuse to leave before saying another word. But no. Angel was looking at her like he respected her opinion and considered the possibility that it had a rational basis and… She was stuck. Now she absolutely had to be one of those rotten people who went behind other people’s backs. Great. Being morally opposed to herself was already starting to suck and she wasn’t even all the way there yet. “I… I overheard them talking about him.” Her foot slipped completely off the brake and she careened downhill. “Buffy was saying that she’s never trusted him and she thinks he has some ‘agenda’, plus she’s totally hung up on him being friends with Ted even though she has no idea what Ted was like in the other Sunnydale, and Oz… All Oz did was ask if she was gonna say anything to me. And you know what she said? She said no!” Now her voice was high and she couldn’t stop herself from mimicking her best friend. “She’s all: ‘Willow has a big blind spot where Liam is concerned.’ Can you believe it? Like it’s not even possible that _she_ has the blind spot. Because hey, I’m just the one who’s actually had a real conversation with him. That can’t possibly mean that I know stuff.”   
  
When she finished, she was out of breath; she could feel how red her face was and she was torn between hating herself and sort of being glad she had someone to talk to. Then she remembered exactly who she was talking to and the hate part won. Oh god. This was Angel. _Buffy’s_ Angel. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”  
  
She got up and meant to leave but Angel stopped her two steps from the couch. Oh boy. Bet she was in for it now. She cringed, bracing herself for Angel’s wrath. The worst part was that she totally deserved it.  
  
  
  
“Have you guys seen Willow?” Xander asked immediately after entering the library.   
  
“Not since this morning,” Oz replied and Buffy’s spider senses, which had been nagging her since her conversation with Oz last period, began going off like a fire alarm.  
  
“No one’s seen her?”  
  
“I’m sure she’s simply lost track of time in the computer lab,” Giles offered calmly. “She informed me earlier that she had a very important project she wanted to work on there.”  
  
Buffy turned to Oz at the same moment he turned to her. “The computer lab?” she gulped more than said. “When did she say she was going there?”  
  
“What?” Xander now seemed ready to join the panic brigade and he didn’t even know what was going on.  
  
“It was last period, I believe,” Giles said. “Why?”  
  
“Oh god,” Oz said softly.  
  
“I think she heard us.” Buffy’s heart sank to the floor. This day was doing so much more than sucking.  
  
“Heard what?” Xander was insistent.  
  
“We were talking about Liam.”  
  
“And by talking about, I’m gathering that you weren’t discussing what a swell guy he is and how thrilled you are that he’s living in Willow’s house.”  
  
“You’d be right,” Oz conceded, his face shadowed. Buffy cringed when he said, “She thought I was on your side. That’s what she said this morning.”  
  
Great. Let’s all blame Buffy for everything.   
  
Okay, yeah, maybe it did _seem_ like this was her fault, but… No. She was not going to apologize for caring about Willow and being concerned about the creepy vampire she’d decided to adopt. And besides, “There’s no ‘side’. There’s being concerned, which, by the way, is what friends do. They have concerns – especially about vampires they barely know who have just moved in with their best friends.”  
  
“What’s this? What vampire? And who has it moved in with?”  
  
A collective groan erupted in the library. Of all the times for Wesley to show up.  
  
  
  
Angel almost winced as he saw the fear in Willow’s eyes and demeanour. She looked as if she expected him to hit her or at least unleash a torrent of obloquy. Bet she never felt this way around Liam.  
  
Gently, almost exaggeratedly so, he put his hand on Willow’s arm and guided her back to the couch. She sat down once more and he sat beside her, hoping he could get her to relax. The tension in her posture made his bones ache in sympathy. “I’m not angry,” he said straight off and he was pleased to see her relax slightly.   
  
“It would be totally okay if you were,” she said. “I shouldn’t have talked about Buffy that way. It was so wrong.”  
  
A rueful smile came to his face and he shook his head. What she’d said hadn’t angered him at all. He understood how she felt. Loving Buffy? That was a constant. Liking her, however? That was another matter entirely. “If it helps, I don’t think Buffy was really talking about Liam.”  
  
Willow was about to take offense when she realized Angel didn’t mean that he didn’t think she heard what she heard. But… “What do you mean?”  
  
“She’s angry at me. I think she’s projecting.”  
  
Oh… Oh. Oh? “Why would she be angry at _you_?”  
  
“Faith.” He did the Oz-style one word answer thing and it was kinda the same, but maybe even a little more informative. Guess the whole ‘practice makes perfect’ thing was responsible for that. Angel was a lot older.  
  
“So Buffy told you she saw Faith kiss you the other day, huh?”  
  
Angel looked confused and Willow felt worse than ever. You know, it might be way past time for her to try the whole ‘taciturn and monosyllabic’ thing on for size because she seemed to have royally screwed up again with too many words. A fact that was confirmed for all time when Angel replied, “No.”  
  
“Oh gosh. I thought…” She started to get up again, but Angel put his hand on her leg and she stayed where she was.  
  
Willow’s words both made Buffy’s feelings more understandable and made Angel angrier at her. Because, yes, Buffy was a teenage girl – he got that – but it would be great if for once she would be completely open and honest with him instead of dropping a few little breadcrumbs of partial truth and expecting him to find his way home. He was tired of her damn games. “She just said it was hard for her seeing me with Faith when I was pretending…,” he paused, knowing how upsetting that incident had been to Willow because of Liam, “anyway, she said she needed a break.”  
  
“I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Angel. I really shouldn’t have dumped all my stuff on you right now. Not with what you’re going through.”  
  
Willow’s hand was on his now and there was sincere compassion in her voice. “It’s okay,” he said, his sincerity matching hers. “I’m glad you told me.” Maybe that was wrong, he realized, but he was and there was no taking the words back. He didn’t really want to anyway.  
  
“She loves you.” If there was anything certain in a world that Willow wasn’t certain of at all anymore, it was that.  
  
“I know.” But he didn’t and Willow could tell.   
  
“She _does_ ,” Willow assured him. “She’s just going through stuff. Faith’s had her pretty wigged for a while.” And how weird was it that now she was advocating for the very friend she was still pretty mad at? Well, at least now she didn’t have to feel so guilty. This kind of made up for the ‘talking behind her back’ thing…right?  
  
“I know,” Angel repeated, giving Willow a half smile. She wished it looked like he meant it.   
  
In all of this, she’d somehow forgotten that she was supposed to be mad at Angel, too. But in her defense, she figured if Liam could see him right now, he’d feel badly for him. They were a lot more alike than she and _her_ other self were and she was sure they’d be making up for real soon, so this was okay.  
  
“Thank you.” The words were said after too long a pause and Angel was worried they sounded like an afterthought. In a sense, they were, but not because he didn’t appreciate Willow’s kindness. He did. It was just hard not to get out of the maelstrom of his own thoughts.   
  
Chief among them was that he almost wished Willow were wrong – because it would be so much easier to do what he had to do if he had the twisted comfort of believing that Buffy had already let him go. Unrequited love would somehow be a lighter burden.  
  
He needed to change the subject back to what – or rather, who – they’d started discussing. “How is Liam?”  
  
Her response wasn’t what he’d expected. She seemed… caught. That excited his curiosity, but then again, he might be reading her wrong. She was always fairly skittish around him and even thought they’d made some progress into friendship, this might just be a bit of the same. “Liam? He’s okay. He’s doing research and stuff today. I was supposed to call him but I was going to use the phone in the computer lab, but that’s where I overheard Buffy and Oz and…”  
  
Did she need to breathe any more than he did? “I’m glad he’s helping,” Angel interrupted.   
  
“I was going to tell him about these demon chat rooms I know about, but I didn’t get the chance. Still, he seems like he knows his way around online. I bet he’s already found a lot of sites on his own.” She sounded proud and Angel again felt a pang of something like jealousy.  
  
“Maybe he, or you – maybe both of you – could teach me some of this computer stuff,” he suggested.  
  
Willow felt her heart soar. This would be such a great way for Liam and Angel to patch things up and really be friends again. “I’m sure Liam would be more than happy to help you out. He’s already gotten the hang of the drawing program I gave him and everything.” He had, too. He’d shown her a sketch he did of Angel’s fireplace and it was really, really good.   
  
Angel looked kind of eager. “I’d like to try that.”  
  
“I wasn’t able to do much with it. I guess it sort of helps if you actually have artistic talent. But I’m pretty good with Photoshop and stuff like that.”  
  
“Liam said something about that. You told him it could make models obsolete.”  
  
Willow blushed, remembering her overexcited pronouncement the day she and Liam had first talked. “I kind of get caught up in my geek world.”  
  
“I think it’s great that you have something you’re so passionate about. Anyway, computers are the engine of progress, right? With all the time we spend in the past, in ancient texts… I think it’s important not to lose sight of the fact that the world moves on, that there’s a present and a future worth being excited about.”   
  
Angel didn’t think he’d ever said this much to Willow – this much that wasn’t about something or someone else, at least – in all the time he’d known her. And he meant every word. Because her world – her chat rooms and message boards and lightning fast connections to people thousands of miles away? That was the real world. That was the world he was fighting for.   
  
For the first time, he really got it. He wasn’t fighting for the dead and gone, for the people he’d murdered who’d died so long ago that the worms who’d consumed them had by now fed other creatures who’d fed new worms in turn. He was fighting for their descendants and for the descendants of strangers he’d never known and never harmed. His redemption was to be found in today and tomorrow, not yesterday. In the brave new world that lived in spite of what his kind had been trying to do for thousands of years.  
  
Maybe it was time to try to be part of it.   
  
  
  
“I never knew there were so many ways to say ‘the Council would never approve,’” Buffy groaned as she and Xander and Oz finally managed to flee the library. “I feel sort of sorry for Giles, though.” Yeah, her Watcher was still stuck with the whining wannabe – who seemed determined to bore his rival to death while breaking the world record for the number of times he could clear his throat.   
  
“I’m more worried about Willow,” Oz said, bringing them all back to harsh reality. “Do we know where she is?”  
  
“My guess is that she went home,” Xander replied. “That’s pretty much her go-to place when she’s running away from something she doesn’t like.” It was clear he was remembering the night she’d caught him kissing Cordelia, but Buffy decided that acknowledging that in front of Oz would be very much of the bad in light of recent history.  
  
“Guess we should go there then.”  
  
“Not that I am opposed to anything that gets me out of a history test, but won’t someone – and by someone I mean Principal Snyder – notice if the three of us skip school for the rest of the day?”  
  
“Good point.” Oz was right. It _was_ a good point. And as much as Buffy wanted to be the one to rush over and drag Willow away from Liam for a heart to heart, she knew who should be the one to ditch… and the way she’d seen Liam looking at him, it sure wasn’t Xander.  
  
“Why don’t you go check on her?” she said to Oz.   
  
“You sure?”   
  
“Yeah. Go talk to her.”   
  
“Later.” And with that, Oz headed out the doors and off to the parking lot where his van waited. Buffy just hoped he was able to fix the second round of damage she’d managed to do to a friendship that was as important to her as her sacred duty and to make Willow understand that all they were trying to do was keep her safe. If only Liam hadn’t twisted her head around to where that was no longer possible.  
  
  
  
  
Willow might have left most of her books at school, but she did have her laptop, and while Angel didn’t have an internet connection, he did have electricity, so here she was – showing a second vampire the wonders of photo manipulation.   
  
She had to admit, it was fun having such an appreciative audience. She’d gotten so used to Buffy and Xander’s disinterest that, even after Liam, it was kind of shocking to realize that not everyone except people like Oz, who already knew as much as she did, found computers cool.  
  
“That’s amazing,” Angel said as he watched her seamlessly integrate a second figure into a photograph originally featuring only one. Without thinking, he added, “Imagine what a blackmailer could do with this.” He froze, but Willow just giggled. “What?” he said, enjoying the fact that he’d made her laugh. When was the last time he’d done that?  
  
“It’s just that I thought I was the only…” She reddened and changed verbal course. “I mean I didn’t think you thought of stuff like that.”  
  
Now Angel was the one laughing. So goody-two-shoes Willow had pondered the potential her skills had for illicit use, eh? Who knew? “I won’t tell anyone about this second career you’re planning.”  
  
She gave him a toothy grin. “You should have seen what I was going to make in case Principal Snyder hadn’t let Buffy back in school.”  
  
Buffy. The mention of her name brought Angel back to the harder part of his reality, but he kept the smile on his face and didn’t let on that his mood had darkened. “So. Have you ever done anything to the Mona Lisa?”  
  
  
  
It was getting on into the afternoon and the phone hadn’t rung. Liam had to admit that he was getting a bit concerned. Willow should have called by now.  
  
Of course it was possible that she couldn’t. He could easily see a variety of complications which might have gotten in the way – complications named Buffy, Oz, Xander, and Giles, most likely. They were probably monopolizing her time and making it difficult for her to get away to make a call. Also, school itself might have thrown up some roadblocks. Who knew?  
  
He logged off the computer and got up from the bed. A mug of blood would not be amiss right now so he decided to head downstairs and heat some up.   
  
Halfway down the stairs, however, his senses told him he was no longer alone in the house a few seconds before an unwelcome voice confirmed it. “Willow?”  
  
Oz was here. What was he doing here at this hour?   
  
Wait a minute…had he just called out…  
  
Liam raced down the rest of the staircase and almost knocked the werewolf down. “Isn’t she at school?” he asked, dispensing with formalities.  
  
“She’s not here?” Hadn’t anyone ever taught this boy that it was rude to answer a question with a question?   
  
“No. She left for school at…”  
  
“Yeah. She was there, but she left. We thought she came home.” Oz had the decency to look concerned but Liam still wanted to rip his head from his flea-bitten body. The stupid boy couldn’t even be trusted to keep Willow safe in broad daylight.  
  
And that was the problem. It was daylight. Liam could do nothing. Nothing. He couldn’t stop his eyes from flashing gold… and Oz saw. “You’re worried,” he observed.  
  
“Of course. Willow’s my friend. And with the Mayor and the Ascension, something could have happened to her.”  
  
Just then the phone rang once. Just once. A few seconds later, it rang again. Liam snatched it up on the second ring. “Willow? Where are you?” Oz was staring at him, but he didn’t care. She didn’t answer and he continued. “Oz is here looking for you.”  
  
Shoot! Busted. And Liam didn’t sound very happy. Willow had no choice now but to tell the truth. “I’m at Angel’s,” she said apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I had to tell him something and I didn’t have his phone number so I had to stop by his house before coming home. I’m sorry.” Did she just say she was sorry twice?  
  
Liam sounded a lot nicer though when he spoke again, so maybe twice was good. “I’m just glad to know you’re all right. I’ll tell Oz. Will you be home soon?”  
  
Willow looked over at Angel. She’d sort of thought she’d stay until sundown and then they’d head back to her house together, but that didn’t seem like a good idea now. “Sure. I’m leaving right now, so I should be there in a few minutes, okay?”   
  
“Good. I’ll be expecting you then.” He hung up and Willow did too as soon as she heard the click.   
  
“I better go,” she said sheepishly. “But hey! If you want, you can come over to my house later. We could make it a mini research party! I have blood and everything.” Where else in the world would you have a party with blood as the refreshments?  
  
Angel was surprised at how disappointed he was that Willow was leaving. It had been… nice. Just spending time with a friend. Laughing, talking, and not a speck of sexual tension or romantic angst. Why had he been so averse to this for so long? Because now that he knew what it was like, he thought it would fill up the spaces in his life in a way that would be better than passion. “I’d like that,” he said, his mind already starting a countdown to sunset.  
  
“Great! See you then.” With that, Willow unplugged her laptop and put it back into her backpack. Time to head home. Maybe on the way, she’d figure out how to get Liam to be happy about spending the evening with Angel.  
  
And… oh god! Oz was at her house, too. How was she going to face him?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

Feral (Chapter Twenty-One)  
  
  
  
No sooner had Willow walked in the door when she practically bumped into her boyfriend.  
  
“Oz. Hi.” Why did she feel ambushed in her own home? Oh yeah, that would be because she _was_. She stopped herself right before asking ‘what are you doing here?’ because the last thing she wanted was a confrontation, but she wasn’t glad to see him right now.  
  
“Can we talk?” He wasn’t looking at Liam, who was standing off to the side looking very Angel-y with the brooding, but he obviously meant for them to go somewhere and talk alone. A part of her wanted to say ‘we can talk right here’, but that would be selfish because Liam really didn’t need to hear about how Buffy and Oz hated him for no reason.  
  
“Okay.” She turned to Liam. “Sorry I worried you. Oz and I will be upstairs for a few minutes, but then I’ll be back and I can tell you what’s going on and stuff.” She smiled at him and then headed for the stairs. Oz followed her.  
  
  
  
Liam had said nothing, he hadn’t had the chance, but that was not for lack of things he wanted to say. Why had Willow left school early? Oz knew – Liam was certain of it – but the mongrel was maddeningly silent on that and every other subject. He had less of a notion than ever of what Willow could possibly see in the creature. If she was looking for a demon… she had better options than some furball who wasn’t a real demon anyway. Of course, the way things were going, she’d be opening her eyes soon and she’d see that that very option was right here – a guest in her own home.  
  
Well, as much as he’d like to eavesdrop and find out how much progress was being made in the destruction of Willow’s pointless relationship with her scrawny stray, he knew that wasn’t feasible. He’d been postponing his trip to the kitchen since Oz’s arrival. Time for some blood.  
  
  
  
“Guess you heard what Buffy said,” Oz spoke almost the second Willow closed her bedroom door. She was actually sort of grateful that he cut to the chase.  
  
“Yep,” she said, tight-lipped and not the least bit inclined to make this easy for him. After his whole speech that morning about being on her side… “And I heard what you said, too.” Oz raised one eyebrow. Wow. She got an expression out of him. Didn’t she just feel special? “I also heard what you _didn’t_ say. Which is kind of more to the point. You didn’t argue with her. You didn’t defend Liam.” There were tears in her eyes before she finished. “You didn’t defend _me_. You let her go on about how gullible I am and how I have no idea what Liam’s really like and you never said _anything_.”  
  
This was the part where he was supposed to apologize and say how wrong he’d been and beg her to forgive him.   
  
He didn’t.  
  
“I think she might have a point.”  
  
Huh? What? “So you think I’m just this idiot? This gullible moron? Yeah. Sure. Because you guys have spent so much time with Liam and know so much more about him than I do. Oh wait. Neither of you has even had a real conversation with him.” Her voice was rising and she stopped short, hoping her words hadn’t reached Liam’s ears.  
  
“I don’t think you’re a moron.” Oz actually had an inflection in his tone and Willow let him continue. “I just think that you might be too sympathetic. Buffy’s not the only one wondering about this guy’s motives.”  
  
Now the ‘letting him have his say’ portion of today’s symposium was over. “And maybe, just maybe, both of you are being creepy and paranoid and… wrong! Because I’ve spent way more time with him and I’ve talked to him and… he’s one of the good guys. And maybe if you could understand that he went through a lot where he’s from and not expect him to be exactly like Angel, you’d realize that there’s nothing sinister about him. But no. He’s different, so he’s automatically some kind of threat.”  
  
Oz was about to say something else, but Willow wasn’t interested in hearing it. And anyway, hadn’t he already used up his word ration for the day? “I think you need to leave. Tell Buffy that _Liam_ and I will let her know if we find out anything about the Ascension.” With that, she threw open her bedroom door and gestured for him to exit. When he didn’t move, she gestured again and threw in her Resolve Face for emphasis.  
  
“Willow, I…”  
  
“Leave,” she said, realizing as she did that she might be doing so much more than kicking him out of her house. Too late. She’d cry about it later… Or maybe the minute he was gone. But she was standing by her words.   
  
He looked… well, he looked like he always looked, so Willow couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he finally turned and walked out of her room. She didn’t follow him.   
  
She’d been right. The minute she heard his footsteps descend the stairs, she sat down on her bed and began to cry.  
  
  
  
Liam sat in the living room, clicking away on the computer but not paying much attention; his mind was on what was going on upstairs. Then he heard the wolf’s tread on the stairs – and _only_ his. That more than excited Liam’s curiosity; he stayed seated, however, feigning a disinterested and casual air.   
  
The boy walked in and stood in front of him – staring – and Liam met his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re up to,” Oz said, his voice low and uninflected, but surprisingly intense, “but if anything happens to Willow…”  
  
Clueless mongrel. Liam almost laughed in his face. “She’s my friend,” he replied.  
  
“I’ll be around.” It was obviously a threat but it meant nothing to Liam and he kept his expression bland and even as the boy scrutinized him for a moment before turning and leaving. Good riddance.   
  
Minutes passed but Willow didn’t come downstairs. That was troubling. And it left him with new questions to add to the ones he’d already wanted answered.   
  
He waited another long moment and then threw caution to the wind by going upstairs.  
  
  
  
There was a knock at her door and for a moment Willow wondered if it was Oz, coming back to try again, but the knock was too sharp to be his, so she swallowed a sob and choked out, “Come in.”  
  
It was Liam, of course. The next thing she knew, he was sitting beside her and had his arm around her and she was crying all over him. Through the turmoil in her brain, she tried to figure out what she was going to tell him when she could finally manage coherent speech, but it seemed like he was way ahead of her. “He doesn’t trust me. I suppose that’s what you two argued about.”  
  
He knew they’d argued? How…?  
  
Okay – duh. Because probably anyone with two working brain cells would see Oz leaving and her crying and make the same deduction. See? There was nothing even slightly creepy about Liam. Unless caring about her counted as creepy.   
  
But what about…? She turned her face up to look at Liam.  
  
“Oz made sure to warn me before he left. He obviously thinks I must have ulterior motives or why else would I be your friend.” In a sense, the mongrel was right, but now wasn’t the time for that admission. Now was the time for caution and guile so as to ensure he retained and even increased his current advantage. “I’m sorry I’ve caused trouble between you two.” And that might well be the most blatant lie he’d ever told, souled or no.  
  
“It’s not your fault,” she hiccupped, her sobs beginning to quiet. It did pain him to see her so sad even if a part of him was glad of it, knowing it meant her ersatz paradise was ever closer to being razed with each tear.   
  
“If I weren’t here…”  
  
“Not your fault,” she repeated, trying to bring herself under control. Because it wasn’t his fault, not one bit. Not like he’d chosen to be terrified and traumatized by Buffy and Angel… heck, it wasn’t like he’d even chosen to be here in this version of Sunnydale, though it was good that he was because otherwise he’d be dust and… Oh god. That was one more trauma, wasn’t it? Poor Liam. He’d almost died – permanently. “Really. It isn’t. They just don’t know you.”  
  
His eyebrow rose and she realized she’d slipped with her pronoun… “Buffy isn’t too crazy about you either,” she revealed as apologetically as she could. “Which is probably because she feels all guilty about… the other night.” Phew. At least she managed not to mention the specifics of what he’d gone through. “Plus, there’s the ‘Ted’ thing, about which she is way too wigged. I mean, I even had to lie and tell her that I got rid of…” Oh great. She avoided the trauma from last night but slipped on the banana peel of the death of Liam’s one and only friend.   
  
“Got rid of what?”  
  
“Uh… the discs. You know, the programs he gave me.” He would totally blame the fact that she sounded like Minnie Mouse on helium on the fact that she’d just been crying, right? Right?  
  
She was lying; he knew she was lying. Now he had to know. He kept his tone gentle, but firm, as he asked again, “What did you tell her you’d gotten rid of?”  
  
With eyes as big as saucers, she whispered, “His hand. I… I sort of saved his left hand.”  
  
Whatever Liam had expected her to say, it hadn’t been that, though maybe it should have been. It was still hard for him to see Ted as a creature of plastic and wires; the man he knew had been kind and trusting and decent and whip-smart. Frankly, he’d also found him attractive, but the wedding photo on Ted’s mantel – the one with a wife Ted had told him had recently passed away – had convinced him not to make a move. He wondered about that picture now. Who was that woman? Or had Ted possessed Willow’s skill with photo manipulation and built himself a past?   
  
Who had built _him_?  
  
“Can I see it?” he didn’t know why, but he really did want to.  
  
“I…”  
  
“Please?”  
  
How could Willow say no? She didn’t. Getting up off the bed, she went to her closet. There, way in the back, behind a stuffed bear Oz – don’t think about Oz – won for her at a seaside carnival game, was a box containing the carefully wrapped hand of the late Ted Buchanan. She carried the box reverently back to the bed and handed it to Liam. “It’s in there,” she said softly.  
  
“Why did you save it?”   
  
While it was a perfectly normal question, Willow really, really wished Liam hadn’t asked it. But she felt like she had to be honest, so she said, “It has some really amazing design features. He… uh... Most of his… It’s sort of where he has the equivalent of his heart and his brain. Which is genius – I mean really genius, because he could perform maintenance on himself way easier that way and…” She realized she’d geeked out for a moment and forgotten something very important. “And he was your friend and I’m talking about him like he was a thing and… and he wasn’t a thing. I mean, okay – not human – but lots of non-human people aren’t things and… And I’m really saying everything wrong, aren’t I? I’m sorry.”  
  
As hard as it was for him to be holding a piece of this world’s version of his friend, Liam hated to see Willow tear herself to pieces over it. He could understand her saving this… In a weird way, he was glad. This box, and the hand it contained… it was something his kind rarely had – a grave where he could mourn the loss of someone for whom he cared deeply. After all, no matter what had happened to Ted in his world, he would never see his friend again. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, giving her a soft smile to let her know he was sincere.  
  
Then he opened the box.   
  
The hand was wrapped in plastic and he took it out, unwrapping it slowly. A moment later – there it was. He was holding Ted’s hand… The same way he had done the night he’d said what he hadn’t known was a final goodbye, the night he and Darla had gone to the Master, the night they had fallen into that horrible trap.   
  
The night his sire had become dust and he’d become Puppy.  
  
Turning it over , he could see where the skin had been torn. He’d felt the wires poking into his skin and now? Now he could see them. Which of them, he wondered as he stared at them, was Ted’s clumsy, yet endearing, sense of humour? Which was his capacity for trust? For friendship? Which of these led him to bake for the neighbours?   
  
“He was amazing,” Willow breathed. “I’ve never… There’s no one like him. Believe me, I’ve looked. Not even the scientists in Japan have come anywhere near… And I’m doing it again, huh? But what I’m trying to say is that he was special. Really, really special. And I know your Ted was the same and… he was so much more than just a robot. Even here – I mean, he had real feelings. I know he did. So that’s how I know that your Ted was really your friend. He was. Maybe he even had a soul. I don’t know. But maybe…”  
  
A scant second later, she was pulled into a tight embrace. “Thank you.” She’d said something right, at last, she guessed, and oh was she glad.   
  
“I meant it.”  
  
“I know.” There were tears in Liam’s eyes as he let go of her and she felt… It was a powerful thing, whatever it was and she was transfixed by the emotions she saw swirling in those gold-brown eyes.   
  
But there was one weird thing. Was it her imagination or were they getting…?  
  
Another second – everything important was about split seconds, wasn’t it? – and she had her answer. Because Liam’s lips were on hers.   
  
Oh.  
  
  
  
Buffy was upstairs, changing for patrol, when she heard the doorbell. “Mom! Can you get that?” she called out as she pulled last season’s tank top over her head. Seemed like more demons were in town these days and she didn’t want slime on the good stuff. Adding a lightweight sweater to the ensemble and looking down somewhat grimly at her stained jeans – while reminding herself for the millionth time that looking her best was really not compatible with hot pink demon guts – she grabbed her bag of slaying gear and headed downstairs, almost forgetting that the doorbell had rung just a moment ago.  
  
So yes, Oz in her front hall, making really, really small talk was kind of a shock.  
  
“What are you doing here?” she asked, pretty rudely, she admitted. But shouldn’t he be over at Willow’s? Annoying Liam and making with the smoochies?  
  
“Buffy,” her mother chided.  
  
Oz surprised her by speaking up. “It’s okay. She thought I was meeting her on patrol.”  
  
“Oh.” Mom had that indulgent smile on her face, still trying to see slaying as some sort of extracurricular activity, not something dangerous or, more importantly, permanent. “Well, be careful, all right? And don’t be late. It’s a school night.” She was still smiling and for a second Buffy though her Mom was going to kiss her cheek or something but, thank heavens, she restrained herself and Buffy made it out the door with Oz – and her dignity.  
  
“Your Mom handles it pretty well,” Oz observed.  
  
“Yeah. She’s pretty much on board the sacred duty train.” She could say more, but frankly, the topic of her Mom was not where she wanted to be right now. “So. Speaking of people I care about, how did things go with Willow?”  
  
If Oz had a facial expression, Buffy would have said it fell. As it was… well it seemed like something about him was conveying that there was really bad news she did not want to hear. But she was going to hear it anyway, wasn’t she?  
  
Oh yes, she was. “I screwed up.”  
  
Now Buffy’s face was the one that fell. She could feel it, in fact, and it wasn’t a good feeling. “What happened?”  
  
Oz was quiet for a moment. The streetlights were on and the only sound she could hear was the electric hum as she watched his face to see if there was any clue – yes, there was an expression and it was pain. She wondered if he was ever going to answer her question, but then he finally spoke, “She’s not happy I agree with you about Liam.”   
  
He didn’t elaborate and it was maddening, but Buffy had her own taciturn boyfriend, so with some effort – and the plus of at least having a facial expression to work with - she filled in the blanks… or tried to, anyway. “I take it she’s pretty mad at both of us, huh.”  
  
“Yeah.” And again, the total absence of detail was annoying. Seriously? He was worse than Angel.   
  
Angel.  
  
Okay, they were sort of on a break, but if anybody could fix this, it was him. Willow would listen to him. After all, not only had he spent lots of time with Liam, but he was Liam’s good alter-ego. Angel had the authority to explain to Willow that there was good reason to be suspicious of the evil twin.   
  
The last thing she wanted to do, however, was have an audience for what was sure to be an awkward conversation. Especially since she couldn’t be sure how she was going to handle talking to him while she was still so freaked out about his make-out sessions with Faith. Better to just keep even the idea to herself. So for now, she’d play her cards close to her chest… or was it vest? Okay. Either way? This was a solo mission. “You better go home. Willow might call. If you’re not there…”  
  
“Yeah.” From anyone else, it would be repetitive, but from Oz it sounded like a completely different word the second time. It was a stoic guy thing, she guessed. Instead of leaving right away, though, Oz stared. It suddenly occurred to her that she’d read him all wrong. Even though he hadn’t said much, he had wanted to talk. It was just hard for him and required time. Too late now. Anyway, if her plan worked, he’d be totally happy that she’d made the choice she had because he and Willow would be a-okay again.   
  
A moment later, he walked back towards her house and the van she could still see.   
  
Buffy, on the other hand? She headed over to Angel’s house. Some way, somehow, she was going to fix things with Willow… and maybe figure out what the hell Liam was up to finally too.  
  
  
  
Liam was kissing her. Oh god. This was so wrong. Especially since something was missing – and that would be the part where she was pushing him away.  
  
She wasn’t. She sure wasn’t. Oh, she wasn’t sticking her tongue in his mouth or anything, but she wasn’t stopping him. Why wasn’t she stopping him? It wasn’t like she’d ever thought of him this way before this minute. But somehow…   
  
Was this a ‘mad at Oz’ thing? A guilt thing? Another fluke? None of her thoughts were spurring her to act in the right and moral manner. She was still in his arms and her lips were right where they’d been a second ago – pressed against Liam’s.  
  
If his soul could be lost by happiness alone, Liam’s would already be gone. Kissing Willow… It was a miracle. It was almost banishing the memories of what her doppelganger had done to him. Her touch replacing the vivid recollections of degradation with softness and innocence. He wanted more. He wanted everything. He wanted to take her in this girlish bed, to feel that purity overwhelm his senses.  
  
Now, though? Now was not the time. Best to rein himself in. So he pulled back, ending the kiss gently before it deepened. He didn’t apologize; that, he knew, would trigger a rush of guilt. Instead, he said nothing.  
  
The kiss was over now and Willow was left wondering what it meant. Because Liam hadn’t even tried to use his tongue or put his hands anywhere inappropriate or anything, so it was all sort of confusing. Was it just a comfort thing? Because he was so sad about Ted?   
  
That was it! That totally had to be it. And could she just say how glad she was, because at least now she didn’t have to feel guilty? She was so, so glad. So, so, so glad. There was enough confusion and wrong and painful stuff going on right now without having to feel like a tramp… again.  
  
But before she had the chance to say anything to Liam, she heard the doorbell. Who the heck could that be?  
  
“It’s Angel,” Liam said, obviously using his super vamp senses and clearly unhappy.  
  
Oh shoot! She had totally forgotten… “I kind of invited him over here tonight.”   
  
  
  
To be continued…


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

Feral (Chapter Twenty-Two)  
  
  
  
Opening her front door, Willow stared into a face that was almost identical to the one whose lips had just been pasted against hers. “Hi, Angel.” This was so far beyond awkward that she couldn’t actually figure out a word for it. Oh gosh.  
  
“Hi.” She stepped back so he could come in and he did. A quick turn of her head offered one bit of comforting information – Liam wasn’t glaring at his counterpart. Okay. You had to take what you could get and this was something. Focusing again on Angel, she offered, “Glad you could make it.” Having punctuated her uncertain pronouncement with a perky grin, she hoped for the best.  
  
“Thank you.” Angel could feel the tension in the room but he didn’t understand it. His time with Willow today had been… well… pleasant, and as for Liam, hadn’t they made peace? Yet he knew what he felt and unwelcome was the word for it. “Is everything okay?”  
  
Liam simply gave him a strange look – piercing – then Willow said something: “Oz just left.” Angel had known the boy was here and he’d been curious… but Willow’s pronouncement was slightly grim, especially when spoken in such a dispirited tone. It was that tone which stilled his tongue and kept him from expressing the hope he’d had that they’d worked out what he’d desperately hoped was a misunderstanding. Obviously that wasn’t the case and Angel was irrationally depressed. Yes, he identified far too strongly with Oz and Willow and it hurt to think there was trouble in what he had been wont to see as paradise.  
  
However, Willow was the one to whom he owed his first loyalty and hers was the side he’d take.   
  
“It didn’t go well,” Angel stated rather than asked.  
  
“No,” Willow responded, trying to keep the tears from forming. Along with the guilt she felt over having just kissed Liam, her heart was broken over Oz and the way their relationship seemed to have ended. But how could she be with someone who thought she was Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel? It was almost worse than when he’d seen her as a slut for kissing Xander. Actually, it _was_ worse.   
  
“I’m sorry.”   
  
Clenching his jaw, Liam thought of how best to put his oar into this conversation. He was not at all pleased that Angel was here, though, knowing Willow, it hardly surprised him. He loved her kindhearted naïveté, but it wasn’t always a shining virtue – like now, for instance.   
  
Still, Angel’s presence offered a bit of surreptitious, vengeful fun. Liam already enjoyed having his secret, but it was somehow sweeter when he was face to face with the man who had no idea that there was a key to that chastity belt he was wearing… a key Liam had and would happily use for himself at the earliest opportunity – and with a partner who was far superior to any Angel had ever known or ever would know. “Willow said she talked to you about the Ascension.”  
  
That set Angel back on his heels, especially since he caught a quick, pleading glance from Willow. Something was wrong and he wished he knew what it was. “Yeah, she wanted to know if I’d heard anything from my contacts that… uh… you guys could check against stuff on the message boards.” Hopefully he hadn’t sounded as unsure as he really was. Then he recalled something Willow had told him and added it – it would certainly add credibility. “She said there were some sites she wanted you to check out. Sites only a demon could use.”  
  
To Angel’s relief, the hard expression Liam wore softened slightly, though Angel was still curious about the reason for the hostility to begin with.   
  
Willow was so impossibly grateful to Angel right now, the way he was covering for her despite not having a clue about what all was going on. But really, how could she have told him about Liam’s issues without betraying Liam? No, she couldn’t have done that. “I haven’t had the chance to talk to him about those sites yet,” she said, which was at least the truth. Turning to Liam, she added, “I’m sorry. I really should have called you sooner or something.”  
  
“It’s okay.” He finally sort of smiled and Willow was glad. She just hoped he’d forgive her for this whole Angel visit. And maybe they should talk about… Or, you know, maybe not. Because it would be a whole lot better if they could just pretend it hadn’t happened since… hadn’t she already decided it probably didn’t mean anything anyway?   
  
“The main site is _underworld.net_ ,” she continued. They’re really, really touchy about outsiders. I mean they wouldn’t even talk to O… a werewolf. It’s pretty much full-timers only.” She didn’t say anything about the mean names, but for the first time she wondered if Liam and Angel knew them. What did _they_ think of werewolves? Of other kinds of demons? Racism wasn’t just a human thing, was it? She’d sort of figured that out when Oz had been snubbed and mocked, but she’d never really thought of it in a larger context. Were there demons that didn’t like vampires? Which demons hated each other the most? Had anyone ever done a study on this? “Anyway, you’re the only one who’d be able to talk to them.”  
  
Angel was slightly insulted by Willow’s last pronouncement, but he realized she had a point. It wasn’t as if he knew he was way around the online world. From what he gathered, it had its own language and that was something he was sure would be as necessary as any demon tongue to communicate on the site Willow was discussing. It still rankled, though. Enough so that he blurted out, “Maybe when you teach me some things, I can talk to them as well.”  
  
  
  
Buffy had scoured the mansion from top to bottom; there was no sign of Angel. Where could he be? “Angel?” she called out, knowing it was pointless, but hoping he was somewhere she hadn’t looked – though it would have to be a secret room. Did this place have secret rooms?   
  
No luck, however. All she heard was a faint echo of her own voice. He really wasn’t here. For a split second she had a paranoid and ridiculous thought that he might be somewhere with Faith, but – lingering jealousy notwithstanding – she knew that was stupid. Even if he _had_ been attracted to Faith, the whole ‘psycho traitor’ thing would have killed it… wouldn’t it?  
  
Oh god. She needed to get over this. She really did. And not just because it was unfair to Angel. It was messing with her head and that was so not a good thing. No, she needed to be sharp and quick and have all her wits about her. There was a Mayor to defeat, after all, and there was… Liam.  
  
Liam. Argh. She was past the point of dislike with him now. Nothing would be going so badly right now if it weren’t for him and she almost wished they’d just kept Willow’s vampire double here and never even tried to send her back. If Anya were here, Buffy would gladly throttle her.  
  
None of this was helping her find Angel, though it was making her want to talk to him more than ever. Maybe he was patrolling.  
  
Of course he was. Angel had one thing in common with her, after all – he used fighting as a way to relieve stress. Since she was sure he was at least as stressed out as she was these days, where else would he be but out hunting for some demons to damage?  
  
She walked out of the house and into the night, heading for the nearest cemetery. That’s where he had to be.  
  
  
  
This wasn’t exactly how Liam had envisioned himself spending this evening, but here he was: sitting at Willow’s dining room table, watching her use his computer to teach Angel the basics of internet usage. He made sure that his manner was bland and impassive, but inside he was seething. Rationally, he understood why she was being kind to the lesser version of him; that didn’t take away the resentment he still felt towards Angel or the regret at not being alone with his love. Reaching inward, he found his secret and he held it tight, letting it console him. Angel would never be happy because he’d never know he could be. He’d pay for slaying Darla, for tormenting Liam… he’d pay for it all with every miserable moment of an eternity in grey, guilty purgatory. The thought brought a smile to Liam’s face.  
  
Angel’s eyes were glued to the screen as Willow moved the cursor to a new button. This internet… It was incredible. The things that existed online astonished him. In showing him how to use a search engine, Willow had taken him to a site where you could find hundreds, maybe thousands, of books that you could read right on your computer. A library nearly as great as his own contained in a small space and accessible to anyone. Imagine that. It was so different from the world into which he’d been born. A world where literacy itself was out of reach of the masses. And now… He’d been right earlier – the future was worth fighting for. “This is amazing,” he said with a sincere smile before he thought of something. “Do they have Poe on this site?”   
  
He cast a casual glance at Liam and… Wait. There was something… It seemed like a _guilty_ something. Had Liam been the one who destroyed his volume of Poe after all? But why? The book had clearly been ruined _before_ Angel had pretended...   
  
Turning his attention back to the computer tutorial he was receiving, he shuffled this matter to the back of his mind. Something told him that now was not the time.  
  
“They have a bunch of Poe,” Willow said cheerily. “They have some Lovecraft, too.” She tried to think of any other gothic type authors Angel might like. As for herself, she’d sort of lost her taste for horror stories right around the time she started dating… a werewolf, but to each his own, right? “And I think _Carmilla_ is on here… oh, and _Varney the Vampire_.” She giggled at that last one; she couldn’t help it. Varney was a silly name for a demon.   
  
“Are you going to buy your own computer?” Willow was so glad to hear Liam’s voice. She wanted him to be part of this, to find a way to really forgive Angel. Not just for the sake of fighting the Mayor, either. It would be better for Liam if he could let go of some of the anger. He already had so much pain that he couldn’t do anything about and it seemed like he deserved better than to be drowning in sadness and angst all the time. No, he couldn’t be perfectly happy, but he could be content, couldn’t he? And Willow wanted that for him. In spite of the weirdness, he was her close friend and she cared.  
  
“I think I should,” Angel replied. Was it her imagination or did he sound different when he talked to Liam than when he talked to her?   
  
And could she just please stop being paranoid and seeing badness everywhere? Because, okay, maybe Buffy and Oz had lived down to her worst fears, but that didn’t mean that everyone was concealing things from her – or from anyone.   
  
There was a tightness in Angel’s voice all of a sudden and Liam was puzzled. It didn’t make sense. Nothing had been said that would cause any extra tension, at least not on Angel’s part.   
  
Well, there was nothing to be done about it. Direct confrontation would only make him appear weak. Later, he’d find a way to talk to Willow, find out if she understood. She was more easily maneuvered and moreover, she wasn’t an adversary. “That would at least make three of us who could man the online search engines.” He didn’t count Oz; after tonight, who knew if the wolf would even be assisting in the battle against the Mayor? Not as if he’d be missed. Willow’s genius was more than enough and, as she’d pointed out, Liam had the ability to go into realms of cyberspace where a mutt like Oz was completely unwelcome.   
  
Angel was about to correct Liam – wasn’t Oz a computer whiz too? – but he saw Willow almost wince. Things really had gone badly south, hadn’t they? He was about to ask about that last conversation, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do so with Liam here and… His sudden distrust of Liam was ridiculous and he knew it. Because, honestly, giving it some thought, he couldn’t believe that Liam had destroyed his book. And anyway, he was giving far too much weight and consideration to one damaged volume, even if it _was_ Poe. Let it go, Angel. “What happened with Oz?” he asked softly.   
  
Her answer? It was everything Angel had feared. “I think we might have kind of broken up.”  
  
  
  
The second cemetery she’d been to and Buffy could find no trace of Angel. She sat down on a bench near a crypt, feeling incredibly frustrated. She’d blown off Oz – hurt a friend who had needed to talk – and she was no closer to getting Willow to see the truth.   
  
Or to figuring out what she was going to do about the man – well, _vampire_ – she loved.  
  
She was a _Slayer_ ; she was supposed to be super-powered and amazing. So why was her life falling apart? And yeah, okay, she’d heard the party line about Slayers not being supposed to _have_ lives, but considering the fact that Kendra – a by-the-book Slayer if there ever was one – was dead and she… well, she _had_ actually died once. But it was that very life – and the friends she had made in it – which had allowed her to come back and keep kicking ass.  
  
Was there a point to any of this?  
  
Her thoughts were so all over the place right now and that was bad. Very, very bad. Boy, if the Mayor knew what a mess she was… But he wouldn’t. Because she wasn’t going to be a mess anymore. Buffy Summers was putting herself on notice: time to get yourself together. Also, it was time to stop second-guessing herself and waiting for help. She was a Slayer. Slayers didn’t wait around for their knight in shining armour. They _were_ the knight in shining armour. It was time to approach the stuff outside slaying with the same confidence and determination that she brought to handling a stake.  
  
So okay. She couldn’t find Angel? That was fine. She was going to go straighten out this mess with Willow all by herself. Just let Liam try to interfere. She hoisted her bag of weapons and set off for Willow’s house.  
  
  
  
After listening to Willow’s halting explanation of her encounter with Oz, Angel felt a sense of loss to which he had no right, but he felt it all the same. Willow and Oz had been the dream of what might have been – the vain hope that he and Buffy could have a lasting relationship. Despite having believed that his decision to leave town was a sign that he was truly letting go, he realized now that a part of him still clung to what could never be… and that he hadn’t accepted the ‘never’ until now. Because if Willow and Oz couldn’t make it work, how could he ever hope to have any kind of love at all? “I’m sorry.” It was a paltry, stupid thing to say, but he couldn’t find any other words, not without risking betraying his own selfishness.   
  
“It’s not your fault,” she said, and he got the feeling that she was as restrained as he was. Probably because of the person they hadn’t mentioned.  
  
“Have you talked to Buffy?”  
  
Every day had made it harder to believe that he and Angel were versions of the same person, but now? Now Liam could give it no credence at all. Had there ever been anyone clumsier or less adroit? He wanted to burst into laughter, but he restrained himself, of course. Instead, he answered for Willow. “No.” Angel was looking at him strangely again and he thought perhaps his hostility had bled through, so he softened his tone. “Whatever she thinks of me, I want you to know that I’m one hundred percent committed to defeating the Mayor. I mean it.”  
  
Willow immediately favored him with one of her kind smiles. “He knows that.”   
  
“I do,” Angel confirmed.  
  
Boy this was all a lot more tense than Willow had planned, but it seemed like Liam was more accepting of Angel and that was a good thing. She just couldn’t seem to push her own issues and troubles to the background, which was making her into a really bad hostess. Speaking of which… “Do either of you guys want any blood?”  
  
Angel nodded at her and looked like he was about to say something when Liam said, “Yes, thank you.” Gosh. They were both hungry at the same time. It was a small something in common, but maybe it would help them feel like friends again… And maybe she was grasping at really pathetic straws in her effort to find some reason for optimism in a very bad day.   
  
One thing was true, though. At least she was finally getting her hostess duties right. “I’ll be back with your blood in a minute,” she chirped and she headed off to the kitchen.  
  
Angel watched as Liam’s eyes followed Willow’s retreating form. Something was nagging at him – something that had begun to coalesce into substance when Liam had answered for Willow, but that had existed in bits and pieces for awhile now. It was the something that hadn’t allowed him to shoot Buffy’s suspicions clear out of the sky, even though he knew her fears were ridiculous and unfair. This was something far more significant than the matter of his book, he knew, if he could just figure out exactly what it was, if it was anything, and…  
  
Stop it. He was so tired of this, of suspicions and confusion. Had Liam actually done anything to excite concern? No, not unless fighting alongside them and managing to forgive Willow for the sins of her counterpart with astounding ease counted as evidence of evil. Now Angel was more certain than ever he’d buy a computer of his own – anything to teach himself how not to brood and how to avoid getting sucked into a certain Slayer’s teenage melodrama. Instead, he tried conversation. “How have you been? Living here, I mean.”  
  
Small talk. Liam should have known it was what Angel would resort to. Well, why not? “It’s been nice. Willow’s made me comfortable. And I’ve liked being able to use my computer.” Why yes, that last was a dig at Angel’s complete lack of participation in the modern world – before tonight at least.   
  
Angel, however, didn’t seem to take it as an insult. Instead, he warmed to the topic. “I can see why. I can’t believe what you can do with these.”   
  
The man had no clue, did he? As if Liam was going to let bygones be bygones after… Maybe he could have seen his way clear to forgiving that terrible night as a pawn in Angel and Buffy’s charade if it wasn’t for what else he’d learned, but forgiving Angel both for evoking the memories of being ‘Puppy’ and for slaying Darla? In the teenage argot of Willow and her erstwhile friends: that’ll happen.  
  
But it offered him no advantage to make his real feelings known. Instead, he accepted the invitation to walk through the open door back into the fullness of Angel’s good graces. Frankly, he could use the ally. “You’re picking it up pretty quickly,” he said, and that was true enough and it provoked a gratifyingly warm reaction.  
  
Suddenly, however, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and that itchy feeling he loathed crawled up his spine – too late to be of any use.   
  
Hearing the front door open just as he sensed a very familiar intruder, Angel stood up, wondering how he was going to handle this. Sadly, he didn’t have time to think it through. Just as Willow came in from the kitchen carrying two mugs full of what smelled like Willy’s finest, Buffy walked in from the living room.  
  
“Angel? What are you doing here?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

Feral (Chapter Twenty-Three)  
  
  
  
Buffy stared at the occupants of the dining room. Willow and Liam? No surprise there. But what was Angel doing here? Since when did he come over to Willow’s house? And why did he have to tonight of all nights? “Angel? What are you doing here?”  
  
He was staring at her, and not the way she was used to – instead, he was looking at her like she’d crashed some great party to which she had definitely not been invited. “Liam and Willow are teaching me how to use a computer.”  
  
Okay, could she just say ‘huh’? Because he could not have said what she thought he just said. “Computer?” Liam was smirking – or she thought he had been. Sneaky jerk. He always managed to change expression just fast enough to keep her from really seeing something that would absolutely prove he wasn’t having nice-guy thoughts. Shaking her head ever so slightly, she focused on Angel again. “I didn’t know you wanted to learn computers.”  
  
“He’s picked up stuff really quickly,” Willow said, not actually glad to see Buffy right now but not wanting to be rude in front of Angel. Yeah, sure, he’d been really nice and understanding earlier when Willow had complained, but she didn’t want to push it. After all, he loved Buffy. “Anyway, it never hurts to have another person on the search engines.” She smiled at Angel, or at least she hoped it was a smile. Kind of hard to tell when you were faking it.   
  
Realizing that this visit wasn’t going to end anytime soon, she set the mugs of blood she’d been carrying on the table, sighing inwardly over the fact that they’d probably be cold and yucky before Angel and Liam got to drink them. Buffy’s timing sucked – although, honestly, there would not have been a _good_ time for Buffy to visit tonight… or any time, really. Willow was still mad and not sure at all if she even considered Buffy her friend anymore. Friends didn’t insult you to your boyfriend behind your back and… You know, that was an argument that cut both ways and she had to admit it. Because, yeah, she had pretty much spent the afternoon whining about Buffy to Angel. Okay, not the _whole_ afternoon, but some of it – enough of it that she felt an ooky feeling in the pit of her stomach and the impulse to avoid looking in the mirror for awhile.   
  
She hadn’t started it, though. She could justify herself with that thought. Sort of, anyway. But it was true. After all, what she’d complained to Angel about had been the way Buffy was going behind _her_ back and… Yeah. Still didn’t make it right.  
  
But it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t trust Buffy or Oz anymore either.   
  
Was that why she’d let Liam kiss her?  
  
“It’s about time I caught up with the twentieth century, seeing as how a new one will be starting soon,” Angel said, maybe more sharply than he’d intended – but maybe he _had_ intended to be sharp. Things had been going well until Buffy showed up. He’d even been enjoying himself. Oddly, he’d realized that Liam and he had one more thing in common: they both appreciated this exciting new technology. They were starting to get along again, too. And there was Willow. It seemed like he was becoming friends with her – real friends, not just people who saved each other’s lives. Would he be able to recapture this opportunity now that Buffy was here to reopen wounds and perhaps inflict new ones?  
  
“Catching up is good,” Buffy replied. She sounded lost and the part of Angel that loved her passionately wanted to pull her into his arms and reassure her. That part of him was awash in self-loathing for wishing she wasn’t here, for being angry at her for siding with Oz against Liam… and Willow.  
  
He knew better, though, didn’t he? He couldn’t give in, couldn’t allow that love to control him any longer. Instead, he simply continued the rather stilted and uncomfortable conversation. “Computers are great.”  
  
Liam fought to keep a smug expression off his face. Trouble in paradise? That was sure what it looked like. So Buffy didn’t have Angel dancing to her tune anymore. He had to admit to a bit of grudging respect for his twin now. Guess he was growing a pair. Too little, too late, but at least there was some sort of resemblance between them at last. “They are,” Liam offered mildly, agreeing with Angel’s statement. He knew which side he was taking; no fool, he. “You’ll be a lot of help.” That last was added with a slight smile, not so extravagant as to be false, but enough to allow Angel to believe that bygones were at least nearly bygones.   
  
“Thanks.” Yeah, Angel swallowed it. He might not be Buffy’s dupe anymore, but he was Liam’s.   
  
Buffy wasn’t in control of the situation. She’d been experiencing that a lot lately and frankly? She hated it. A lot. A whole lot. Being the Slayer was supposed to be more help than this, wasn’t it? C’mon. There were two demons in the room – and yeah, okay, one of them was her boyfriend… or he used to be… or maybe he still was… Holy God. Her internal dialogue was Willow-babble now. “The more you can do, the better,” she added lamely. Was it just her, or was this conversation not so much with the conversation as with everyone saying versions of the same thing over and over? Plus, she realized that, as of now, she was probably the most old-fashioned person in the room. And considering the fact that two of the people in it were a few hundred years old? Not of the good.  
  
Of course, the real badness was the emotional distance between her and Angel and Willow – the distance she could actually feel. That was definitely worse than being out of touch with the newfangled technology. It was even worse than dealing with sneaky, horrible Liam. “So, Will,” she said, turning to the girl she hoped like anything was still her best friend, “I…uh… Is there somewhere we can talk?” Well, you couldn’t say she wasn’t ‘Cut to the Chase Girl’.  
  
Willow looked around at Angel and Liam. She hated the idea of talking behind their backs. But she needed to have this out with Buffy. She did. All this talk of search engines reminded her that there was something a whole lot more important going on than her personal drama. There was a big bad that they were by no means sure to defeat – not yet, anyway – and saving the world from the Mayor needed to be her first priority. That meant getting to a place where she and Buffy could work together even if their friendship was over. To do that, serious conversation needed to occur. “Let’s go up to my room.”   
  
As she started to lead Buffy away, she turned back to her two guests and nodded towards the mugs on the table. “There’s your blood. There’s more in the fridge if you guys need it. I won’t be long, okay?”  
  
With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she headed for her bedroom, feeling Buffy following behind her like a vulture the whole way.  
  
  
  
The girls were out of earshot before Angel broke the silence in the dining room. “I hope they can work things out.” He spoke softly and with a lack of conviction that surprised him. Why?   
  
Liam’s only response was a shrug, but that wasn’t a surprise. It was obvious he knew how Buffy felt about him; she wasn’t much good at concealing her emotions, especially not from those she disliked. He was still surprised Faith hadn’t figured out how much Buffy loathed her – or maybe she had and she just hadn’t cared to end the charade until she thought she’d stolen his soul. When it came to Faith, who knew? She was an elemental creature – all instinct and no thought – primitive and unstudied.   
  
And yes, on some level he still felt sorry for her, still wished he could have guided her to the light. Faith hadn’t had the advantages Buffy had. If someone, anyone, had ever really cared about her…  
  
Now wasn’t the time to think of his failure to save her. He was pretty sure Liam wasn’t her biggest fan, so bringing up the topic would be a bad idea. Maybe, though, someday, he could talk to Willow. She might understand. She’d thought _he_ was worth saving, after all. She knew what it was like to try and redeem the irredeemable.   
  
But right now, there were other battles to be fought. “Willow gave you the name of one of those demon sites, right?”   
  
“Underworld dot net,” Liam replied, not sure where this was going. He’d wanted Willow to be with him when he succeeded in eliciting some valuable information from the demons online. Still, showing off for Angel alone might be all right. Taking Angel’s place at the computer, he typed the address and waited for the site to appear. He was annoyed by the dark colours and the papyrus font, but if most demons in this world were like Angel, it made sense they’d have a poor sense of visual style. He looked over the discussions, trying to find one that looked promising.   
  
“We’re here,” he said, a moment late, not that it mattered. Angel said nothing, just nodded and stared at the screen as Liam kept scanning the page. Hmmm… here was a recent post headed ‘bloodbath on the way’. Now that seemed a likely place to start. He clicked on the link.  
  
  
  
“So,” Buffy said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and wondering how it could ever have gotten to the point where she felt this awkward with Willow. Okay, she knew. It just didn’t seem possible. Or real. “I…”   
  
“I…”  
  
She and Willow had spoken the same word at the same time. That was good, right? Right? Shouldn’t they be sharing a laugh now or something?   
  
They weren’t. It was still Awkward-Silence-Ville and that was so not good. Time to be Blunt Girl and just say something. “Look, I know you overheard me talking to Oz, and I know it seems like…”  
  
Willow cut her off. “You basically called me a gullible moron.”   
  
Oh god. This was a lot worse than she thought. “I never said you were a moron,” she contradicted weakly.  
  
“No, you just said that I have this big blind spot where Liam was concerned and that I, who have spent a ton of time with Liam, unlike a certain Slayer who’s never even had a conversation with him, had no idea what Liam was like.”  
  
When she said it like that… “I know it seems like I was putting you down. I get that. I do. But I wasn’t. It’s just…” She reached out to try and take Willow’s hand… only to have Willow step back, arms akimbo and hands now inaccessible. Buffy felt her eyes go moist. “Will, you’re the most caring person I’ve ever known. You believe in giving everyone a chance. And that’s a good thing a lot of times. It is. But sometimes…”  
  
“You mean it’s okay as long as it’s Angel, but not when it’s someone you don’t happen to like. Why? Is this because Liam isn’t hung up on you the way Angel is? God. Like you don’t already have ninety percent of the guys in Sunnydale following you around like…” She’d been about to say ‘puppies’, but she stopped herself. Even though Liam couldn’t hear her, she felt awful even thinking that word now. She was trying to train her brain to think ‘baby dog’ or ‘doglet’ instead, but it was tough going. “Like… followers,” she finally finished. Dork much?   
  
Had she struck a nerve? Because Buffy looked really mad. Maybe she’d gone too far. “That’s not it! I can’t believe you said that. My reason for not liking Liam is that he’s sneaky and he’s creepy and I know he’s up to something and I would feel that way even if he was drooling all over me.”  
  
Would she? Willow wasn’t sure, because now that she’d said what she had, she realized she did sort of believe it. And maybe not so much with the ‘sort of’. Because what other reason made sense? Buffy had barely spent any time with Liam and they’d never had a real conversation. So how could she even say that he was creepy with a straight face unless she was referring to the fact that it was pretty obvious Liam didn’t have the hots for her? But she didn’t say any of that out loud, instead electing to stick to defending Liam. “He saved my life, Buffy. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. Also? He’s doing lots of research to help us defeat the Mayor. But yeah, you’re right. He must be evil. Just because he fights on our side and kills bad guys, that doesn’t mean anything. It’s much more important that you don’t like him.”  
  
Again, Buffy found herself questioning her own instincts. Because once again Willow had managed to throw her own opinion back at her in a way that made it sound silly and childish. It wasn’t, though. She knew it wasn’t. Willow had it all wrong.   
  
Buffy knew there was no way out of this right now, though. Not one that involved being honest. But could she get away with lies? “Maybe you’re right,” she offered, not too enthusiastically. That would be way too fake and she was already a big fat liar.   
  
Willow stared intently at Buffy. She wanted to believe her, she really did, but she couldn’t let herself give in all the way. She decided to split the difference and said what she’d pretty much intended to say from the beginning. “We all need to work together right now. This Mayor thing is way more important than whether or not you like Liam, or what you think of me, or... Anyway, let’s just put all this stuff behind us for now and focus on saving the world.”  
  
She held out her hand. It was kind of a formal gesture, but it was as sentimental as she could deal with tonight. Buffy looked confused for a second, but then she reached out and shook hands with her. “Agreed.”  
  
Tonight, Willow would sleep on it. Hopefully, she’d wake up believing in her best friend wholeheartedly again.  
  
  
  
Liam was reading a lengthy post written by a Hayadz demon - who was sadly proving to be all shadow and no substance when it came to meaningful intel - when Willow and Buffy reappeared in the dining room.  
  
“Hey.” Buffy’s smile was as genuine as that dark-rooted blonde hair. “Guess I’ll be heading out.” She cast her eyes at Angel and Liam fully expected the same thing she did: that Angel would offer to accompany her.  
  
As much to his shock as anyone else’s, all Angel did was say a polite “Good night” and turn his eyes back to the computer. Would wonders never cease?  
  
The last thing Angel wanted was to be Buffy’s confidant tonight. He needed to separate from her, yes, but not to the point where he wanted to alienate her completely, and he knew that was what would happen if he were alone with her now. Willow’s expression was one of cautious, but desperate, optimism, and that could only mean one thing: Buffy had told her what she wanted to hear. As much as Angel wanted to believe that Willow had truly won the day… No, he caught the distrust and dislike in Buffy’s expression for a split second when she looked at Liam.  
  
So yes, he let her walk to the door with Willow – and without him. She had a bag with her and he knew it contained weapons. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d make it home alive and safe.  
  
Walking Buffy to the door, Willow was taken by surprise when Buffy gave her a quick hug. Were they at that place yet? But she didn’t object, instead simply saying, “Good night. Be safe,” as Buffy headed out into the night with her usual jaunty air.   
  
She stood watching until Buffy disappeared from sight and then closed and locked the door. Better go see what Liam and Angel were up to, huh?  
  
  
  
Buffy was walking home when she decided to get in a quick patrol instead. Demon activity _was_ up, after all. Besides, she needed to do something to work out her anxiety and frustration and… hurt.   
  
Angel wasn’t with her. Angel didn’t even _want_ to be with her. He was all chummy with Liam and weirdly excited about computers now. Computers! Angel! It made no sense. But it was happening right now in Willow’s dining room. A room where she’d felt completely unwelcome – and not because of Willow.  
  
Had Angel stopped loving her? Only watching him kiss Faith had made her less sure of his affections than she was right now after seeing him getting all pal-sy with the sneaky vampire she was forced to pretend she didn’t hate anymore. One more reason to want Liam to get up close and personal with Mr. Pointy.   
  
Of course, maybe she was at least partly to blame. She’d been the one who said she needed a break, who’d pushed him away. Maybe this was just him showing her what it felt like… and maybe she deserved it. Had it been fair, after all, to punish him for doing exactly what she’d asked of him?  
  
She couldn’t help how she felt, though. How could he – or anyone – blame her for that? She remembered how he’d reacted to her dancing with Xander, and their relationship hadn’t been nearly as intense then as it was now.   
  
Well, here she was at the playground. Always a favorite for late-night demon activity. Tonight seemed to be pretty typical; she could sense the presence of something demon-y. She looked off to her left. Oh yeah. Those were demons. Two of them. And man were they ugly.   
  
She slipped a knife out of her bag then let the bag slide quietly to the ground. She needed both arms free. Oh, and agility would be good too, she decided as the two nasties separated – clearly getting ready to attack her from opposite sides. Time to play the ‘out of her league’ role. You could never go wrong assuming demons were sexist jerks.  
  
So she ran for the swing set and… whoopsie. Clumsy Slayer trips and here comes a big bad demon. At least that was what contestant number one seemed to think. She couldn’t actually get its take on the whole scenario with her usual witty banter since, on closer examination, it turned out it didn’t have a mouth. Boy was that weird.   
  
Still, this creature wasn’t immune to a good old kick to the knees. She nailed it with one and quickly leapt to her feet, knife at the ready. Then she managed a nice roundhouse kick to its ugly face and what do you know? Now _it_ was on the ground.   
  
Unfortunately, just as she was throwing her knife toward its chest, its buddy hit her from behind. Her throw was way off and Creature Number One caught it easily. Great. Two against one and now _they_ had the weapon. Luckily, however, they fought like Wesley. Soon enough, not only were the tables turned, but Creature Number Two was splayed across one with her knife in its chest, somehow making death noises despite the total absence of anything she could imagine being used for speech or anything speech- _like_. The other one had validated its comparison to Wesley by running away like a little girl. She’d have to slay it some other time.   
  
For now… Well, it was time to pick up her bag and go home. She’d done her job tonight. And at least she’d sort of fixed things with Willow.  
  
As she walked, she scratched her hand. Of all things – she’d emerged from the fight without so much as a bruise but it seemed she’d gotten nailed by a mosquito. She looked for the bite, but she couldn’t see it. Her hand sure did itch though. When she got home, she’d put some aloe on it or something.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

Feral (Chapter Twenty-Four)  
  
  
  
After a fruitless hour of cruising the posts on the demon forum and Angel’s departure, Willow had pled fatigue and gone to bed without any more conversation with Liam. She’d been sort of relieved to get out of the house this morning without talking to him either, but now she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t rather have stayed at home. Yeah, okay, there was that whole really awkward ‘kiss’ thing and no, she wasn’t all that anxious to discuss it because the way things were, she could maybe pretend it had never happened, but even talking to Liam about it would probably be a whole lot easier than facing Oz. She so did not want to see Oz. Especially since she wasn’t sure if she’d ended their relationship last night or just initiated a trial separation.  
  
Which did she want?  
  
Oh God. There he was by the lockers. What to do…what to do?  
  
After a moment’s reflection, Willow did what any self-respecting modern woman secure in herself and her personhood would do.  
  
She turned and hurried in the opposite direction as fast as she could.   
  
But no, she didn’t actually run. Not really.  
  
  
  
Buffy was squirreled away in Giles’s office trying to get him to see the big picture. Unfortunately, he kept focusing on the _little_ picture – the one in the book in front of him. Could he just get over this needless concern about unimportant stuff? Because Willow was what was important right now. Giles just refused to get his head out of his… leather-y, dusty things. “You touched one of the demons?”  
  
He said that like he had no clue about the mechanics of slay-age. Hello? Slaying was a contact sport. “Not in a naughty way, sheesh. It wasn’t a date. I was slaying them – well, one of them. Anyway, my hand just itches a little. Nothing the makers of Lubriderm can’t handle. Can we get back to the matter at hand? Which is what to do about Willow and her refusal to see the truth.”  
  
Naturally, Giles wasn’t listening to a word she said. Instead, he turned the book towards her. “Is this the demon in question?”  
  
With an exasperated sigh, Buffy looked at the picture and nodded. “Yes it is. In the disgusting flesh.” She shuddered for emphasis and made a gagging sound.  
  
Great. Giles had that ‘we’re doomed’ look. “It says here that it can infect the host.”  
  
Wait... what did he say?  
  
Okay, yes, Willow was still very, very important, but… “Infect?” Giles had his head back in the book so Buffy spoke a whole lot louder. “Infect?!?!”  
  
“Um… Yes. It… uh… can infect the host with… an aspect of the demon?” He glanced at the book again as Buffy felt all the blood in her body drain down and pool in her feet. “Yes, an aspect of the demon.”  
  
Aspect? What did that even mean? Buffy pulled the book further across the table and looked frantically at the page. Aspect of the demon? Was that all they had to say? Where was the wordy and overdrawn explanation, complete with illustrations? C’mon. It had to be in here somewhere.  
  
But it wasn’t.  
  
“It’s rather terse, isn’t it?” Giles offered weakly.   
  
Terse? Yeah. Okay. That was one word for it. Buffy had others. Most of which would get her mouth washed out with soap if her Mom caught her using them.  
  
She went over and over the word ‘aspect’ in her mind. “You mean like… a part of it?” She heard her voice rise in the kind of alarm she hadn’t felt since she’d faced the Master.   
  
Giles seemed to have heard it too, because he began backpedaling. “There could be a number of other explanations for your hand, Buffy. Have you begun using a different brand of fabric softener? Our chemically-laden environment is full of hazards.” Then, of course, hope faded and reality returned. “I would, however, advise you not to try tracking the one who got away, all right? Let’s minimize your exposure.”  
  
All Buffy could think about were the many different parts of that demon – all of them really ugly. “It better not be an outside part.” Especially not that mouthless face. How could she possibly manage to slay without witty banter?  
  
She slunk out of the office, shoulders hunched under the weight of intolerable anxiety. What she needed right now was someone to talk to, someone with a whole lot of optimism, someone like… “Willow? Hey.” What do you know? Her best friend was right here and, thanks to lying last night, they were speaking to each other. You know, she might even be willing to try to like Liam for real in return for the universe throwing her this bone.  
  
Was it her imagination or did Willow seem out of breath and nervous?  
  
Running into Buffy hadn’t been at the top of Willow’s wish list, but it was better than dealing with Oz. “Hey.” It took her a few seconds but she noticed that Buffy looked a little… off. “Is something wrong?” Judging by the look of gratitude she got in answer, she was thinking ‘nail meets head’. Now was not the time to give in to those doubts she still had because Buffy really needed a friend. “I’m guessing the answer is yes,” she said after a second or two of silence.  
  
Buffy nodded. “Yeah. I… I ran into a couple of demons last night. I killed one and according to Giles it might have left me with a souvenir.”  
  
  
  
Another day, another shower… and another session of self-gratification in place of the real thing. Still, Liam consoled himself as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, this wouldn’t last. Soon enough, he’d be enjoying Willow in his bed. Where she belonged.  
  
After all, he’d already made progress. That kiss… The taste of her still lingered on his lips. It was nothing like the foul creature who’d worn her face and name in the world from which Liam had come.  
  
What would happen at school today? How would Willow deal with Oz? He hoped – and had good reason to believe his hope more than a mere pipe dream – that she’d be unable to face the wolf. That along with her anger at the boy there was a fair amount of uncertainty as to whether she still cared for him the way she once had.   
  
He had a good while to wait before he would find out anything; he knew that. Today might be more productively spent in trying to learn more about the Ascension. Getting out some clothes, he dressed hastily and got out his laptop.   
  
Like everyone else, he’d been taking a fairly straightforward path in pursuing information. He wondered if that might have been a mistake. Willow had it partly right – head for where the demons gathered online. But she hadn’t had the whole idea. Liam needed to _act_ like a demon. With a smile, he headed back to _underworld.net_. It was time to play fast and loose with the truth and do some real digging.  
  
  
  
Angel stood by his microwave drinking a mug of blood and feeling oddly peaceful. Oh sure, last night’s perusal of the demon website hadn’t been all that fruitful, but they hadn’t really used it to its full potential yet. And anyway, that wasn’t what Angel was really thinking about right now.  
  
He had friends. Actual friends. As in the plural form. He hadn’t had even one friend in longer than he could remember and now he had two. It was… It was an extraordinary experience. Why had he resisted it for so long? Because friends… Friends bolstered you and made you even more eager to fight the good fight. They also made you far more certain that you could win. Because they were going to defeat the Mayor. Maybe they didn’t know how yet, but they would. Now that he was more able than ever to help, now that he felt more invested in humanity than…  
  
Than ever.   
  
Should he be ashamed of that? Perhaps. But it was the truth. It made sense, didn’t it? How could you be truly committed to humanity, when, for all that you possessed a soul, you stood outside it, gawking at like a tourist? Now, though, now he understood.   
  
Love was a wonderful thing, and he would never, no matter what, regret loving Buffy, but their passion… their passion was a distraction. It always had been. It had blinded him to everything and everyone else, it had made him forget what he was and, more importantly, what he _could_ be. Friendship, though? That was something else again. It opened him to the world rather than closed him off from it. It was something he wished he had allowed himself from the beginning. But then, he hadn’t realized.  
  
The truth was, he supposed, that he’d never really had any friends at all so he’d had no idea what he was missing.   
  
He thought about talking to Willow about Buffy and about his decision to leave. The funny thing was, he was pretty sure he could trust her. His one concern was putting her in an uncomfortable position. That and… damn it. He hadn’t thought about the fact that leaving Sunnydale was no longer just about leaving Buffy. It was about leaving Willow and Liam.  
  
All of Angel’s peace and calm and sense of well-being disappeared. What was he going to do?  
  
  
  
Buffy’s hand was still under hers as they sat across the table, but Willow could barely feel it. ‘Aspect of the demon’? Oh god did that ever sound scary and awful and… way too vague. Were watchers and demon-historian-type-people allowed to be that vague? Because it sure seemed creepy and sadistic to Willow. They should have said which aspect, or at least written one of those Nostradamus rhyming couplet-y things that she could decipher. She was really good at deciphering… when she actually had something to decipher. Now it didn’t much matter, did it? “I’m sorry.”  
  
Boy did she mean it, too, because now that she thought about it, she sure did feel guilty. If Buffy hadn’t been at her house and then left, possibly off her game from all the turmoil… “I’m really, really sorry,” she reiterated.  
  
“It’s okay.” Willow would have found that a lot more reassuring if she thought Buffy actually meant it. But who _would_ mean it if they had just found out they might get some icky demon part grafted on to them and…  
  
“I sure hope it’s not a boy demon,” Willow mused softly before she had a chance to think. The look on Buffy’s face made her wish she’d kept her mouth shut. “That was so stupid because hey – you’re a girl and that would totally cancel out… and you know, I’m just going to shut up now.” She made a motion of locking her lips with a tiny, imaginary key. However, silence wasn’t her strong suit. “I’m really sorry, Buffy.” How many times had she said that just in the last three minutes?  
  
Oh great – add the whole ‘boy’ thing to the very long list of really gross possibilities Buffy had running through her mind. That one was even worse than the tail. She shuddered. But Willow seemed really sorry, and anyway, come to think of it, the demons hadn’t been wearing clothes and she hadn’t seen anything… masculine dangling from the usual place, so maybe she was off the hook on this one. Well, at least in terms of winding up as the first _male_ Slayer in history. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m pretty sure these guys were batting for neither team.”  
  
“Oh. Well that’s good.” Willow was unusually quiet for a minute and it made Buffy think of Oz.  
  
So of course, she had to ask, “Will? I know it’s probably none of my business, but what’s going on with you and Oz?”  
  
Just then, the bell rang and Willow immediately leapt to her feet. “I better get to class,” she said. The combined look of annoyance and relief on her face? Yeah, that told Buffy the ‘Oz’ topic was not one Willow was too excited about. But Buffy knew she needed to stand up for Oz. He loved Willow and she needed to understand that if he’d said anything to upset her, he’d only said it because he had Willow’s best interests at heart.  
  
Buffy was, in fact, about to say something, but Willow was already on her way out the door and chasing her down would probably be a really bad idea. Great. She was officially useless as a friend to Oz. That talk last night seemed to have gone as badly as Oz had told her. In fact, it might even have gone worse.  
  
  
  
Liam mentally patted himself on the back for being clever enough to use his old name on the site. It had taken time, but luckily, Angelus still had a bit of a rep out there in the demon world and it had opened some doors… and mouths. He still didn’t have nearly as much information as he’d like – or as he’d get, he vowed – but he now had something solid. There was a box, a box containing something essential to the Ascension, and it was on its way to Sunnydale. If they could find out how and when it was coming in, perhaps they could intercept it. That might nip this whole thing in the bud.  
  
He could hardly wait for Willow to get home so he could share this news with her.   
  
It suddenly occurred to him, however, that he’d better tell someone else. After all, he’d gained all his information in a private chat. If anyone else were to go on and call themselves ‘Angelus’… Who knew what might happen at the library today?  
  
Going to the phone, he picked it up and dialed the number Angel had given them both last night.  
  
  
  
“Liam,” Angel said, surprised but glad to hear from the man he was increasingly seeing as something much more than just his counterpart in another universe.   
  
“Angel. I just wanted to give you a heads up. If you go on _underworld.net_ , don’t use Angelus’s name.” That was puzzling and Angel had a hundred questions running through his brain until Liam continued. “I was on earlier and I used my – our – old name to see if it still got any respect. Good thing too since I managed to get a private conversation going with a guy calling himself ‘Leviathan’. Dumb name, I know, but pretty much what you get online. Anyway, his name might be lousy, but his information wasn’t. He knew enough that we already know to convince me he was on the level and he had one shiny new tidbit to offer: there might be a way to stop this Ascension before it even begins.”  
  
  
  
The final bell rang and Willow felt a certain amount of dread. She knew she had to go back to the library for a check-in with Giles, but… What if Oz was there? Awkward wouldn’t even begin to describe that. She’d lucked out today since she’d skipped third period, which was their only shared class today, but that wasn’t so much luck as it was flagrant rule-breaking and… Yeah, she really didn’t think luck was going to step in and do the job on its own. Still, conferring about the Mayor was a lot more important than Willow’s personal life; she knew that. So she decided to bite the bullet and go where she was supposed to.  
  
And of course, the minute she walked into the library, she saw him. Oz. He was sitting right there at the computer. Luckily – at least luck was _sort_ of on her side – Giles and Buffy and Xander were there too and… hey! Angel! How had he…? Oh, the tunnels. She’d almost forgotten about those. Good thing she’d remembered before she said something stupid. “Hi, Angel,” she offered cheerily, heading straight to where he stood, which was the furthest away from Oz.  
  
“Hey, Will,” Buffy offered, her cheer a bit forced as she watched her best friend stride over to where the vampire she loved was standing… and not looking at her. This whole ‘Willow and Angel all chummy’ thing wasn’t something she was sure she was comfortable with. No, she wasn’t jealous – at least not the way she was about him and Faith – but… But okay, she was sort of jealous because Angel looked really glad to see Willow. When was the last time he’d been glad to see _her_?  
  
God. She really needed to get a grip. It was this ‘aspect of the demon’ thing; she knew it. It had her emotionally bouncing around like a rubber ball and she really needed to get a grip.   
  
Angel had been waiting for Willow’s arrival to share the good news and he was glad she was here at last. “I have some information. Liam was online and he made a contact who told him something that…” He was cut off by Xander.  
  
“And we’re trusting Liam because…?”  
  
“Because he’s my friend and he saved my life,” Willow snapped. Angel was slightly surprised by her sharp response to her so-called best friend, but he was proud of her. Liam was a better friend than Harris to Angel’s way of thinking and he was glad Willow was standing up for him. He had to admit that he also enjoyed the hurt look on the annoying boy’s face.  
  
But a round of sharp remarks was not what they needed right now. In fact, they needed to stand together, so Angel continued as if there’d been no interruption. “There’s a box on its way to Sunnydale. Liam wasn’t able to find out much about it, only that it’s vital to the Ascension. In fact, the Ascension can’t happen without it. So if we intercept this box…”  
  
“Then we stop the Ascension,” Giles finished. “Excellent. All that remains is to discover when and where this box will be arriving.”  
  
“That would be of the essential,” Buffy agreed, glad there was a good chance to stop the Mayor, but not thrilled that she had to be grateful to Liam. Could the universe just give her a hand here? Because the more so-called ‘good deeds’ he did, the harder it was for her to think of a way to convince Willow that he wasn’t Casper the Friendly Vampire.   
  
Looked like it would be even harder now that Angel seemed to be on Team Liam. What was it with that guy?  
  
“This is great!” Willow caroled, looking everywhere but at Oz, whose eyes she could feel boring into her. He couldn’t tell that she’d kissed Liam, could he? But no, that was silly. Of course he couldn’t. She kept smiling. “I knew Liam would be able to get those guys to talk.”  
  
“ _Underworld.net_?” Oz asked, sounding… well, it was a monotone, but it seemed to be his ‘hurt’ monotone.   
  
A couple of days ago, Willow would have rushed to soothe his feelings. Today all she had to say was, “Yep.”  
  
Angel noticed the tension was still thick between Willow and Oz. Strangely, he didn’t feel that same sense of anguish that he had before. He was on Willow’s side in the matter – the fact that Oz didn’t trust her judgment obviously meant he didn’t respect her. Angel didn’t see how Willow could be expected to put up with that. If all of this was really because Oz still had issues about that silliness with Xander, then he shouldn’t have gotten back together with Willow in the first place.   
  
The waves of discomfort were pouring off of her and Angel decided it was time to be the friend to her that she was to him. “Hey. Now that everyone knows what to look for, care to come back to the mansion with me? I need to set things up for that new computer I’m getting.”  
  
The smile she gave him was pure sunshine. “Sure,” she chirped. “We’ll just have to make a phone call or two and then maybe tonight we can go out and look for what you need.”  
  
Right now Willow was pretty sure that Angel deserved to have the word ‘Guardian’ added to his name. Gosh was she grateful to him. She turned to Giles. “Angel and Liam and I can do some more research at my house later. You don’t need me here, right?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she took Angel’s hand and let him hurry her towards the tunnels. “Bye!” she called out just before she was out of earshot.   
  
It never occurred to her to wonder why Angel said nothing to Buffy.  
  
  
  
Buffy could barely feel her legs underneath her. Angel hadn’t said one word to her the whole time. Not one. Gosh how much she needed to think about something else right now.  
  
Naturally, however, Xander couldn’t be expected to just shift quietly into research mode. “Since when does Angel use computers?”  
  
Great. Giles and Oz looked just as puzzled. Just when she wanted to distract herself with research, she was going to have to talk about the one person she really wanted to be able to stop thinking about.  
  
Oh how she hoped that ‘aspect of the demon’ turned out to be amnesia.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

Feral (Chapter Twenty-Five)  
  
  
  
Liam fought to keep from trying to take Willow’s hand as they left Angel’s mansion. Helping his sandless double buy a computer and get it all set up had been amusing in its way, but he would rather have had Willow to himself tonight. Still, she’d blushed once or twice during the shopping trip – obviously recalling their kiss – and that had been rewarding. “This time tomorrow, Angel will be online,” he opened mildly, deciding to stick to conversational topics on the way back to her house.  
  
“He sort of made me feel guilty,” she responded, _apropos_ of nothing Liam could recall.  
  
“Why would you feel guilty?”  
  
“When he bought all those programs. You know, the ones I have but never actually paid for?”  
  
As much as he hated to see Willow upset about anything – even something this trivial – Liam relished the opportunity it afforded to touch her. He put his hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with you having those programs. You save the world on a regular basis. Consider the software as payment for services rendered."  
  
“Really? You don’t think I’m… a criminal or something?” As ridiculous as it seemed, he could see the fear in her eyes – fear that this small transgression meant something far more sinister.  
  
He stopped walking and she did likewise, turning to face him. He took her hands. “You’re nothing like her,” he said. “Nothing.” She stood, eyes wide and green, fearful and hopeful… and achingly lovely. How could he resist? He leaned down and kissed her.  
  
Oh god. Liam was kissing her. Again. And just like last time, she didn’t seem to be stopping him. Why wasn’t she stopping him? Because yeah, she was mad at Oz, but she still loved him… didn’t she? Didn’t she?  
  
This time the kiss was going further. Liam was pulling her close and… ohgodohgodohgod. There were tongues – well, _his_ tongue, but that still counted and it wasn’t like she was biting it or anything to tell him to back off.   
  
How did she feel about this? Oh the kissing part felt really good – too good. Liam was pretty talented at this, which made sense what with him having centuries of practice and all. But what about the Liam part? The part where he wasn’t Oz?  
  
Still not stopping… and that moan sounded suspiciously feminine so she was pretty sure she’d been the one doing the moaning. Her brain wasn’t helping her at all right now. How did she even feel about Liam? Other than the physical part which, yeah, she was still enjoying way too much.  
  
Okay, now his mouth was moving to her neck. Which meant she could say something – _should_ say something. Right now in fact. She pushed gently against his chest. “We… uh… we should probably get home.”  
  
  
  
Angel sat at the coffee table, looking at his brand new laptop and marveling at all the different things it was able to do. Even without having internet access yet – the technician was coming in the morning – there were so many exciting features. He’d bought a number of programs and he wasn’t sure which he wanted to try first. Did he want to use the word processing program to experiment with that journal he’d been telling himself he should write? Did he want to open the drawing program and see about learning to use the ‘tools’, as Liam called them? Did he want to play a game?   
  
He was almost paralyzed by the number of choices he had.   
  
Closing his eyes, he moved the cursor randomly over the screen and then made sure to double-click the way he’d been taught, hoping he’d at least landed on one of those… what did Willow call them? Icons? That was it: icons.   
  
When he opened his eyes, he discovered that he had indeed clicked on an icon. Well, the drawing program it was. It was different from the one Willow and Liam had, but Willow had approved of it – over the objections of the salesclerk who had persistently recommended another, more expensive, program. He’d been dismissive of Willow in general, Angel recalled, focusing his attention on Liam and Angel and barely wanting to acknowledge Willow’s presence. Angel hadn’t realized the world of computers was sexist, but apparently it was.   
  
He realized with a jolt that Willow got a lot of that, some of which he had witnessed and much he now understood that he hadn’t. The level of knowledge and technical prowess that would have garnered automatic respect when displayed by a man or even a boy seemed to gain her nothing but being treated as some sort of quaint little novelty at best and being regarded with hostility at worst. With a pang, he had to put some of his own past behavior under a microscope and admit that he had taken her for granted and been more than slightly dismissive. And no, his eighteenth century origins didn’t feel like a very good excuse.   
  
Of course, Liam was an exception, he conceded. Liam had treated her with deference and respect from the beginning – another example of his double ‘getting it’ faster than he did. Maybe that didn’t matter so much now, though, because Angel was catching up. Computers, friendship, what his redemption was really about… Yeah, he was on track now.  
  
Turning his attention back to the program, he immersed himself in learning this new language and skill set. When he finally felt ready to begin, he realized with a jolt that he wasn’t even thinking of drawing Buffy.  
  
  
  
Last night had been awkward. So very awkward. Willow hadn’t spoken another word to Liam on the way home after that kiss, and when they’d finally arrived, Willow had raced upstairs with only a hastily-mumbled ‘good night’. She’d been incredibly grateful to have made it out of the house this morning without seeing him.  
  
What was going on? Why did this keep happening? Because she sort of understood why she’d gotten fluke-y with Xander, but Liam? He was so not her type. She’d never even thought of him like _that_ until two days ago and even then… no, she still didn’t think of him that way. Did she?  
  
Speaking of people with whom she’d engaged in inappropriate behavior. “Hey, Will.”  
  
“Hey.” Xander wasn’t exactly the most distracting presence, but would anyone be?  
  
“So. How did computer shopping go with the undead last night?”  
  
Willow rolled her eyes but inside… She really didn’t want to talk about yesterday at all. Sure, the computer shopping and set-up had been innocent as could be, but what came after? That wasn’t so okay. In fact, that was anything but a topic she wanted to discuss. With anyone. Ever. “It was fun,” she said. “We got Angel a pretty good set-up. Of course the sales guy was a creep, but they all are. They think girls can’t tell the difference between system memory and…”  
  
“We?” Xander interrupted.  
  
Oh no. Why hadn’t she just said ‘I’? “Liam went with us,” she admitted, hoping Xander would just drop it… and hoping he couldn’t actually _see_ the scarlet ‘A’ she could almost feel burned into her forehead.   
  
“Hi,” Buffy chirped as she tapped Willow on the shoulder, trying to be nonchalant as she came up behind her friends.   
  
“Buffy!” Willow whirled around in a panic and Buffy felt bad for having scared her friend. The guilt stayed when Willow didn’t smile. Was she mad again? Hadn’t they worked this out? She was sure things had been almost normal between them yesterday. Had Liam said something to make Willow angry at her again? She wouldn’t put it past him. He was a conniving creep; if only she had proof.  
  
“Hey, Buff.” Well at least Xander was glad to see her. “How was patrol last night?”  
  
Nothing like the memory of fruitlessness to liven up a dull morning. “Big nothing. Except for the part where I thought I saw a four-legged demon.”  
  
“A werewolf?” Xander asked and Buffy saw Willow redden and look away. Okay, she was getting a serious wiggins now.  
  
For a second she almost forgot to answer Xander, but then she remembered and shrugged. “Nope, dog. But it was exciting for a second. How was the basketball game?”  
  
Xander looked excited for a moment before suddenly changing expression and saying, “Tall guys. Hoops. Same old, same old. Believe me, you two ladies didn’t miss a thing.”  
  
Great, she’d obviously missed the game of the century, which was confirmed when Cordelia, who seemed to have been eavesdropping, walked over. “Are you kidding? That was an incredible game! I’ve never cheered so hard in all my life! I still have knee marks on my back.” There were obvious jokes to be made there, which Cordelia seemed to finally get, so she added, “From the pyramid.”  
  
Xander stared at his ex as she turned and went back to her crowd of sheep; Buffy felt so much sympathy for him.  
  
 _”I wonder if she and Wesley have kissed yet.”_  
  
“It really bugs you, doesn’t it?” He was staring at _her_ now – in the ‘huh’ kind of way. “You know, the whole ‘Cordelia and Wesley kissing’ thing.”  
  
Xander and Willow were _both_ staring now. “Man. You read my mind.” Wait a minute. Xander said…  
  
Oh God. She’d… read… Okay, she needed to find Giles. Like right now. Because it looked like she’d gotten that aspect and it wasn’t a lipless face… Or a demon penis.  
  
  
  
Liam had slept soundly last night and he was feeling almost triumphant today as he lazed comfortably in the king-sized bed barely used by Willow’s parents. Because despite Willow pulling away from him after their kiss and hiding herself away from him for the rest of the night, there was one important thing she _hadn’t_ done: she hadn’t asked him to leave. No, indeed.  
  
She had feelings for him. Oh, he wasn’t going to try and fool himself into believing they were the same as what he felt for her – not yet – but she was attracted to him and that was a start. He closed his eyes and remembered last night. Holding her close, deepening their kiss… the way she’d moaned and pressed herself against him. He’d felt her nipples harden and even smelt the beginnings of arousal. She was his, ripe and so-very-close-to-willing.  
  
Throwing off the sheet, he reached down and took himself in hand, allowing his imagination to take him where he wanted to go.  
  
 _There was a knock at the door and, before he could pull the sheet back over himself…  
  
“Oh my god!” Willow stood, face rapidly reddening, in the doorway. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t… I should… I’ll just go, okay?”   
  
But she didn’t leave. In fact, she didn’t even turn around. She stayed where she was, her eyes fixed on the part of his body he’d been tending to just a moment ago… the part of his body which remained proudly erect under her gaze. He was emboldened by that gaze and a moment later he got up from the bed and walked over to where she seemed to be frozen in place. The skin of her face and neck was scarlet and he could almost smell the blood beneath the surface. There was no almost, however, about the scent filling his nostrils now.  
  
She wanted him.  
  
Reaching behind her, he closed the door. It wasn’t necessary for privacy – the house was empty – but as a symbolic gesture… She started, but made no move to escape.   
  
She didn’t want to.  
  
“Touch me,” he said softly.  
  
“Um…” Her hand moved to his chest.  
  
“Touch me,” he repeated, more forcefully this time.  
  
Now her hand went where he wanted. He hissed in pleasure as she tentatively touched the shaft, stroking ever so carefully. So innocent. Exploring him like the naïf she was. Gradually, her fingers encircled him and she began moving her hand up and down his length. Wonderful as it felt, he wanted more – much more.   
  
Placing his hand over hers, he forced her to stop. “Was I doing something wrong?”  
  
He shook his head. “No, it’s…” He was interrupted by the ringing of the phone._  
  
Damn it! The phone _was_ ringing… and it was the signal. What would Willow think if she knew she was interrupting a sexual fantasy in which she was the leading lady?  
  
Reaching over to the nightstand, he picked up the receiver.   
  
Much to his shock, it wasn’t Willow’s voice on the other end of the line. “Liam?”  
  
Fuck. It was Angel. His erection still throbbed and he was stuck talking to that sad shadow of himself. “Yeah.”  
  
Obviously, he hadn’t kept his annoyance out of his voice. “Is something wrong?”  
  
Oh, Angel, you have no idea. But instead of telling Angel the truth – that he’d interrupted a fine morning’s masturbation – Liam opted for prevarication. “No. I was just taking a shower, that’s all.”  
  
“Ah.” Liam noticed Angel seemed excited and he wondered why. A second later, he found out. “I got online about an hour ago and I was checking out those message boards and… I found out more about the box. It’s called the Box of Gavrok.”  
  
  
  
Buffy had to admit that, as demonic aspects went, this telepathy thing was majorly cool. She’d absolutely aced English today. Who knew what else she could accomplish?   
  
She was about to find out.  
  
Okay, what she _should_ be doing was going over to Willow’s house to read Liam’s mind, but she knew it would never work and that he would know she was up to something. In second place was trying to get Faith or the Mayor to think about the Ascension in her presence so she could find out more stuff, but she figured they’d see through her too and anyway… The truth was that even if those other two options were open, she’d probably still be making her first stop at Angel’s house. Which was where she was right now. She couldn’t help it. She needed to know how he felt. In spite of that stupid request for space she should never have made, she still loved him with all her heart and all this uncertainty was tearing her up. Was it Faith who he was thinking about? Was he wishing they’d been able to keep her on the home team… because he wanted her?  
  
Even Giles would agree that all her romantic distraction was bad for slaying and that she needed to clear this up, right?  
  
She walked into the mansion, expecting to have to go upstairs or into the study or something. For sure she didn’t expect to see what she saw: Angel on the couch with his feet up… and a laptop perched on his legs. Guess he really had been serious about that computer thing, huh? “Hey,” she said softly.  
  
Angel’s response wasn’t exactly enthusiastic. “Just a minute.” He kept tapping away at the keys for a minute, brow furrowed, obviously a lot more interested in what was on that screen than in the woman who had just walked in. Was it too late for her to just leave and pretend she’d never come at all?   
  
What was Buffy doing here? It wasn’t an emergency. She would have immediately said something if it were.   
  
It was still so unusual to him – this freedom he’d been feeling, the way he wanted to fill up his life with more than just Buffy. But it was real and her presence, far from making him smile, reminded him of just how miserable they made each other now. Funny how he could see that even as he acknowledged that he still loved her. He always would. It was just that he couldn’t see a life built around that love anymore. It wasn’t good for either of them. Maybe once… But no, not now. He truly hoped she saw that same truth soon. Would it hurt when she moved on, found someone else? It would burn like holy water. But he wanted it for her all the same.   
  
Tough love, however, was the only way to get Buffy to see reality. So he kept his expression unwelcoming. “Is there something you needed to tell me?” he asked sharply, not even moving so as to allow her to sit beside him.  
  
Okay, this was getting worse and worse. Was she even sure she really wanted to know what he was thinking? “So. I see you got a computer.”  
  
“Yeah. I was just checking out those message boards. I found out something important about the box this morning. It’s called The Box of Gavrok. Liam and I are both seeing if we can find out more.”  
  
“Wow. That’s great.” She was impressed, but she felt… left out. And then there was the whole ‘Liam’ angle. Was everyone but her and Oz blind to this guy? “Looks like we might even be able to stop this Ascension before it happens.”  
  
“Yes it does.”  
  
Great. Speaking of Oz, Angel was doing the terse and laconic thing even more tersely and laconically than usual. Okay… so how to get to the thoughts she was still wondering about in spite of her terror, like… “You know, if we stop this, maybe we could still save her. Faith, I mean.”  
  
Huh? What was she talking about? Then, with a jolt, Angel realized he could feel something. Willow had told him yesterday about Buffy possibly acquiring the aspect of a demon and he had a hunch he knew what it was… because Buffy was trying to read his mind. “You can’t,” he said bluntly. “Mind-reading doesn’t work on vampires. So why don’t you just ask me whatever questions you want answered? You know, like a grown-up.” She was staring at him, open-mouthed, and he realized she might need an explanation. “Willow told me about your tussle with that demon and about the aspect. I’m guessing that aspect is telepathy and you thought you’d try and find out how I feel about Faith without coming right out and asking me.”  
  
He shook his head. Now more than ever, he knew they needed to be apart. “Just to get this straight – I don’t want Faith. Never did. I kissed her because I had to in order to keep up the act. The whole bad girl thing? Doesn’t do it for me. Neither does trying to get into my head instead of just being honest with me.”   
  
Reddening, Buffy realized she’d really screwed up. “I’m sorry.” She stared straight into Angel’s eyes, hoping he’d see how much she loved him… and that she’d be able to see that same love in his.  
  
Instead, his eyes were flat and unreadable and his response was, “Would you be sorry if it had worked?”  
  
She had no idea how to answer that. “I shouldn’t have come.”  
  
There was a faint shine of tears in Buffy’s eyes and Angel couldn’t help but be moved. Maybe he should let her down more gently than this – or maybe he loved her too much to do the right thing. Either way, he set the computer on the table and got up and went to her. “There’s no one but you,” he said, and it was truth. “In my whole life, I’ve only loved you.” She stared up at him expectantly, but he had enough strength not to give in and kiss her. At least there was that. “Right now we need to focus on stopping the Mayor, okay? We can worry about us when this is over.”  
  
“Okay,” she agreed, hanging on for dear life to those words of Angel’s: ‘no one but you.’ “I better get back to school. Can’t afford to cut too many classes. Besides, I should probably tell Giles what you guys found out.” She smiled at him one last time and then she headed out the door and back to school.   
  
Was she glad she’d come to Angel’s? The jury was still out on that one. Sure, he’d said some things she wanted to hear, but she had this feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach and she wasn’t sure why.  
  
She needed to talk to Willow. Willow had spent a bunch of time with Angel lately; she’d be able to help.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

Feral (Chapter Twenty-Six)  
  
  
  
Buffy had been looking forward to some one on one time with Willow to talk over the way things were going with Angel, but first, she realized, it was kind of important to make sure everyone knew that she’d been given her shiny, new aspect – and hey! It wasn’t a mouthless face! (Or a demon penis.) She had no idea how she would handle slaying without witty banter. Plus, she’d finally found the perfect pair of jeans. No way would they fit if she had… an extra appendage.  
  
“She can read our minds? Our every impulse and fantasy?” Xander sounded scared and Buffy felt slightly nauseous. She experienced a dawning realization that minds were a lot like books – there were some she just did _not_ want to read.  
  
 _”I don’t see what this has to do with me.”_  
  
“I don’t see what this has to do with me.” Why was Buffy so completely un-surprised that Cordelia said the very thing she thought? The girl had never struck her as someone with a complex inner life… or a filter between her mind and her mouth.   
  
“I think it’s great!” Willow chirped. “I mean, you like your other Slayer powers, right?” There was a nervous edge to Willow’s enthusiasm, however, and Buffy felt that ‘thing’ in the pit of her stomach that she’d felt at Angel’s. Stop the telepathy train, please, before it stopped at a station Buffy really didn’t want to visit.  
  
“It’ll be fun,” Buffy agreed, willing her anxiety to go away. “Did you see Nancy Doyle’s face in English class?”  
  
“Yeah. She’s super competitive. You really showed her.” Was that even right, though? Willow wasn’t sure. Okay, yeah, it was a natural ability and all, kind of like her own braininess, but still… wasn’t mind-reading cheating?  
  
Oh God. Buffy was staring at her and she looked hurt. She knew exactly what Willow was thinking. Oh God. This meant she’d totally find out about the kissing thing with Liam and… Oh God! Buffy’s eyes were huge and Oz was sitting a few feet away and… “I have to go.” Before she even finished her sentence, Willow scooped up her things and raced out of the library.  
  
  
  
Okay, where had she gone? Was Willow even still on campus? Buffy peered into the computer room. No sign of her there. God. She had to talk to her. Kissing? Liam? Please let that not mean what she thought it did. Only one place left – the cafeteria. And would everyone please stop thinking so loudly? There was so much chaos in her head right now that she could barely hear _herself_ think.  
  
Heedless of everyone’s stares and the cacophony of _‘she’s mental’_ that they were all thinking about her, Buffy went down the cafeteria line hoping like anything that Willow had come here for a snack or to hide or…  
  
 _”This time tomorrow, I’ll kill you all.”_  
  
Who thought that? Buffy turned every which way. Who thought that? Who was the homicidal maniac? Would everyone please just stop thinking so she could find the soon-to-be-killer? Who was it? Who thought…? She put her hands over her ears. Make it stop. Please make it stop. She had a killer to find and how could she do that if she…? Okay, just one more question: Why was the floor getting closer?  
  
  
  
Willow couldn’t believe she was cutting school – again. But what else could she do? Buffy knew. Oh God. Buffy knew. She knew about what had happened between Willow and Liam. Had she told anyone? Oz? Xander? Giles? Anyone? It was official. Willow’s life was over. So very, very over.   
  
What had she done? Kissing Liam was… It was wrong, right? And yeah, okay, maybe it was different from the fluke because she and Oz had broken… but not officially… well, maybe sort of… or not… or… Oh God. This was bad. This was so bad. Willow was a terrible, terrible person. She was evil and skanky and just like… All right, maybe not like her vamp self, but Faith. Yeah, she was Faith.  
  
Because hey, kissing Xander had been bad enough, but Liam? At least with Xander she had the excuse of that whole ‘unresolved, lifelong crush’ thing. What was her excuse for making with the Liam-smoochies? And now here she was, running away, not because she was ashamed… okay, yeah, that was part of it, but the big part? The part that had really made her leave? Was her fear of everyone else knowing. What kind of person was like that? Not a good one. Not the kind of person Willow had always thought she was.   
  
Today was her worst day ever.   
  
She didn’t even have anyone she could talk to. Unless… No, she couldn’t talk to Angel. He was Buffy’s boyfriend. That wouldn’t just be stupid, it would be one more wrong thing added to the list of really wrong things Willow had done lately. After all, if he kept her confidence, she’d be getting him to go against Buffy - _Buffy_ \- and if he blabbed, then Buffy would know Willow went behind her back and talked to and… Was there a pattern forming here? Because it was beginning to seem to Willow like she was _more_ afraid of being caught than she was of being a bad person in the first place.  
  
Boy did she need to nip this in the bud.  
  
So, instead of going to the mansion, she decided to go…  
  
Back to school. She needed to face this, no matter what the consequences.  
  
  
  
Trees. There were trees. Why were there trees? Why was she lying down? The last thing she remembered was…  
  
 _”I think she’s okay.”_  
  
Who was thinking that and why…? It was Oz, but how did he…? Oh yeah, she’d been in the cafeteria and then her head and the floor had decided to try a relationship. It hadn’t been a good one, at least not according to her head. No point asking the floor. Abusive boyfriends always lied.  
  
Speaking of girls who chose the wrong kind of guy… “Willow?” she asked weakly, hoping her friend was there.  
  
“Are you all right?” Giles asked and Buffy couldn’t describe how happy it made her to see his lips move. It was official: she hated this telepathy thing.  
  
“I told them not to move you.” Oh goody, Cordelia was here. “They probably severed your spinal cord.” Wishful thinking there, Cordy?  
  
Buffy sat up and moved her legs, for Cordelia’s benefit. Her spinal cord was just fine. “I’m okay.” She looked around and noticed someone running towards them. “Willow!” Oh was she glad to see her. They so needed to talk still, but first… “Listen, you guys. Before I passed out, I heard… There’s a killer in the cafeteria.”  
  
Xander crowed, “I knew it! I’ve been saying for years that the lunch lady’s gonna do us all in with that Mulligan Stew.” Well, at least someone believed her, right?  
  
“Are you okay, Buffy?” There weren’t any words for how guilty Willow felt right now. She’d run away and it looked like something had happened to Buffy – at least that was the buzz in the hallway. Everyone was talking about how Buffy had freaked out and then fainted in the cafeteria. “Everyone says…”  
  
“Oh great. It’s the talk of the school already?”  
  
There was no point in trying to lie since Buffy could read her mind. “Uh huh.”  
  
Xander suddenly chimed in. “Hey! Willow! Just the person who can answer an important question: What’s a Mulligan?”  
  
Huh? “It’s a second chance, you know, like in a game.” Or like Willow was hoping to get in her struggle to be a decent human being.   
  
“How can you put that in a stew?” Xander asked and Willow was officially lost without a map.  
  
“Xander!” Buffy barked. “Can we get back to the important point here? Which is that I distinctly heard someone think, ‘This time tomorrow, I’ll kill you all.’ There is a killer in this school and we have to stop them.”  
  
  
  
“I’ll be out there the minute the sun sets. I’ll get it, Giles. I promise you that. We’ll save her.” He hung up the phone and sat down on the couch, shaking with fear and frustration. Two hours before sunset and he was trapped while Buffy went more and more crazy as the telepathy consumed her mind, erasing the boundaries between herself and everyone else. He’d read a book once, something about the bicameral mind… but the modern brain, someone who knew consciousness... no, they could never handle it. Buffy would be permanently insane if they didn’t fix this soon.  
  
They needed the heart of the second demon - the one who got away.  
  
He picked up the phone again, this time to make a call of his own. Letting it ring once, he hung up, waited a few seconds, then dialed again. “Liam? I’m going to need your help tonight.”  
  
  
  
Hours had gone by, student after student had been interviewed, and she didn’t feel as if they were any closer to figuring out who the would-be-mass-murderer was. She looked over the worksheets Xander and Cordelia had returned to her – Xander’s pile seemed suspiciously light – and sighed. Nothing there that screamed ‘psycho’ – at least not in a murderous way. Jonathan was pretty weird, but only in the ‘even lower on the social ladder than her’ kind of way, so…  
  
Yeah, the mystery was unsolved and people were probably going to die. One more horrible thing to add to Willow’s list of badness and failure. With a sigh, she stuffed the worksheets into her bag and prepared to go home.   
  
“Hey.” Oh no. It was Oz.  
  
“Hey,” she replied. No one could say she wasn’t skilled at the witty repartee, huh?   
  
“Good worksheets,” he offered with that half-smile of his that meant so many different things.  
  
It was pretty obvious he was trying to win his way back into her good graces. She wasn’t falling for it. “They didn’t get us anywhere.” As guilty as she felt about kissing Liam, she hadn’t forgotten the way Oz thought about her, the things he’d said. For the first time, she wondered if maybe they should never have gotten back together. “I gotta go.”  
  
“Home to Liam?” Oz’s monotone nearly failed him.  
  
Willow couldn’t help but blush, but maybe she could pass it off as all being due to anger. She _was_ angry. “Home to my house. Where, yes, Liam happens to be living right now. But I’d be going there anyway.”  
  
“We should talk.”  
  
“No, we shouldn’t. Oz, I…” The next words she spoke stunned her as she said them. “I think maybe you had the right idea – back when you broke up with me. I think maybe we should have left it that way.” Shocked as she was, she figured she was right, and that this was as much for Oz’s benefit as her own. After all, she’d just kissed another man – twice. That didn’t seem like something you did when you were with someone you loved – or at least not if you loved them _enough_. Hanging on to Oz would make her as selfish and bad as she feared she was earlier.   
  
“You don’t mean that.” Oz’s monotone was nearly gone and his eyes shone with what threatened to become tears. Willow would have hated herself under any other circumstances.  
  
“I do.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll always care about you.”  
  
He stepped back as if she’d slapped him. She realized too late that those last words were a pretty painful cliché. If she’d thought about it, she’d have said something else; but maybe it was better this way.   
  
“Yeah” was all he said before storming – or at least what passed for storming with him – out of the library… bumping into Xander, who was on his way in. What was he doing here? God. Was she being punished for trying to do the right thing?  
  
“What was that about?” Xander asked after Oz had gone. He stared at her for a moment and Willow realized there were tears in her eyes. Great. No way was she going to be able to just make a quick excuse and leave.  
  
Well, she was trying her hand at being 'Character Girl' so maybe honesty would be the best policy. “Oz and I broke up.”  
  
“What?” Xander was genuinely shocked, not that that was… shocking. He didn’t even know about the whole ‘talking behind her back’ thing that had gone on. “Will, he’s not still mad about… you know… you and me or anything, is he? Because if that’s what it is, I’ll go to him, okay? I’ll tell him it’s totally over. Because it is. I mean, we’re still friends, but that’s it.”  
  
Xander’s words, his sincerity… Willow couldn’t help it. She started crying in earnest. “It’s not that, Xander. It’s just… I’m the one who broke up with him.”  
  
Now Xander went ballistic. “What did he do? Did he put his creepy werewolf paws where they didn’t belong?” He was serious and he was angry and it just made Willow cry harder. Xander really was still her best friend, wasn’t he? She’d let that fall by the wayside in all the chaos of recent days… but he hadn’t.  
  
“He didn’t… It’s nothing like that,” she hiccupped. “I just… Is it okay if we don’t talk about this right now? It’s almost dark and I want to get home. Maybe I can find something online that will help us figure out who the wannabe Charles Whitman is.” She got a blank stare from Xander and she realized he was confused. “Charles Whitman was a guy who shot a whole bunch of people at a university in Texas,” she explained.  
  
She came out from behind the desk and Xander put his arm around her. “I’ll walk you home.” He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, Will.”  
  
  
  
Buffy lay in her bed, moaning, her pillow over her face. “Quiet. Please be quiet,” she said over and over. It didn’t work. Her head was full of noise. She couldn’t take it much longer. Something had to make this go away. “Quiet, quiet, quiet.” But she couldn’t even hear her own words through the din.  
  
  
  
Darkness was falling and Liam wanted to head out and find that demon. As much as he despised Buffy, he knew she was necessary to defeating the Mayor. More importantly, he knew how much it would gall her to be beholden to him for saving her sanity, such as it was. Two excellent incentives for being the one to bring the demon heart to Giles and Wesley. Angel, of course, was heading out on the hunt as well, and might be the one who got to play hero instead, but Liam considered himself the better hunter… especially since he’d garnered a few details about the demon online that he wasn’t sure Angel knew, such as its fondness for preying on children.   
  
But Willow hadn’t returned. He wasn’t worried yet, but…  
  
The sound of the front door was a relief, even after he picked up two heartbeats. “Willow,” he said as she entered the room… with Xander in tow. This was an unexpected displeasure.   
  
Now he was torn. Did he want to leave her alone with… but that was foolish. All he had to do was remember last night and he knew Xander was no threat to his incipient relationship with Willow. So he decided to free himself of the odious boy’s company. “I was about to write you a note. Angel called and told me what happened to Buffy. I’m going out to help hunt down the second demon.”  
  
Willow was both grateful and relieved. Liam was going to help Buffy. That was wonderful. He was also leaving her alone for awhile, also good. Because she was still so uncomfortable about what had been happening between them, which she really did need to warn him that Buffy knew about, but it wasn't like she could do that with Xander right here and... “Okay,” she said. “Thanks.” He smiled at her and she noticed the dagger in his hand… Wasn’t that…? Oh yeah. She recognized that dagger. He’d gotten it from the cache of weapons she kept in her room. Okay, that was something they were going to have to discuss, because even though it was for a good cause, he’d still intruded on her personal space.   
  
Now, however, was not the time to discuss that. He was on his way to hunt down the demon heart that was Buffy’s only chance at getting rid of the telepathy that was destroying her. “Good luck,” she offered as he was about to leave.  
  
His smile got bigger and then he left. He hadn’t said a word to Xander… who was staring at the door. “That guy gives me the creeps.”  
  
Sighing heavily, Willow sat on the couch. “Can we please not have this conversation now?”  
  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I know you’ve had a bad day,” he said kindly. It made Willow ache. It occurred to her with a pang that Xander had his own trauma. They’d both lost Jesse, but only one of them had staked him. How could she expect him to accept _any_ vampire?  
  
“It’s okay.” It might be, but then again, she wasn’t sure if anything was ever going to be okay again. She’d just dumped Oz, hadn’t she? Oh god. It seemed like all she’d ever wanted was a boyfriend who loved her and she’d thrown him away. The fact that it had been the right thing to do wasn’t making her feel better, at least not yet. “Will you be mad if I say I kinda need to be alone now?” There was a flash of hurt in Xander’s eyes and Willow hated herself. She added. “I just want to watch a bunch of chick flicks and pig out and worry about Buffy. I’ll call you if I’m ready to talk, I promise.”  
  
It seemed like she’d undone some of the damage. “Country music, Will. I’m telling you it’s the only way.”   
  
She got up and wrapped her arms around him. “I promise,” she repeated. “When I’m ready to talk about it, you’re the first one I’m gonna talk to.”  
  
He hugged her back and there were some words like ‘goodbye’ and 'call me if there's any news' before he, too, stepped out the front door and was gone. The moment the door closed, Willow sat back down on the couch and bawled.  
  
  
  
Liam hadn’t been out on the hunt for half an hour when he found what he was seeking – a house with unwary children playing in the backyard. And what do you think was lurking behind the fence? It was the demon. “Well, well,” he greeted the creature, “just who I’ve been looking for.” There was, of course, no reply from the mouthless demon, but Liam continued. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Oops. Sorry. Guess you don’t have one." He grinned as he pulled the dagger from his belt. "That’s okay… it won’t be the only thing you’re without pretty soon.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Feral (Chapter Twenty-Seven)  
  
  
  
Carrying the demon heart in the plastic bag with which he’d provided himself for this very eventuality, Liam strode into the library, having not even sought ought Angel first. Good thing, really, since Angel was already here. “I’ve got it,” he said, forcing himself not to grin in triumph.   
  
What happened next was an unpleasant shock as he found himself enveloped in a hug by his double. “Thank you,” Angel said softly as Liam choked down the bile in his throat. He wasn’t saving Ted’s killer as a favour to Angel – he was doing so because saving the world required the bitch alive and well… at least for now.   
  
Once Angel let him go, he shrugged. “It’s the least I could do,” he said, and that was true in its way, though perhaps not the way he intended it to be perceived. Giles seemed mollified – impotent prick – looking at him with what passed for friendliness and acceptance in a dried-up, voyeuristic eunuch. Where was that trust when it had been needed to save a whole other world? Just because this Giles wasn’t technically the same… No, Willow and his own doppelganger were the only two beings he’d met in this world who differed at all from the people he had known where he came from. Everyone else might as well be clones. Which meant, he was sure, that Ted and Darla had been, at most, only marginally different from their counterparts in his world.  
  
Fine time for the resurfacing of his rage towards Buffy and Angel. He closed his eyes for a moment and calmed himself. “Let’s get the potion finished. The sooner we give it to Buffy, the better.”  
  
  
  
“Go away. Go away. Please go away,” Buffy moaned over and over. It didn’t help. Everything was noise. No one in the whole world would stop thinking for a single second to give her some peace.   
  
Her pillow was wet. That was the only way she could tell that she was crying. “Shut up!” she screamed. She could barely hear her own voice now.  
  
  
  
Willow was dozing on the couch when the phone rang and was barely conscious when she answered it. “Huh? Wah?” The voice on the other end was saying something that sounded like it might be important and she shook herself awake. “Liam?” This was _definitely_ important. “You got it? That’s great! Should I… okay, I’ll stay here. Let me know when she’s okay, okay?” She hung up the phone with a smile on her face.  
  
Buffy was going to be okay! Liam had gotten the demon heart! Willow was so glad; no matter what issues she might still have with Buffy, she sure didn’t want her to go permanently insane.  
  
What time was it, anyway? Looking over at the clock, she was surprised she’d been asleep. It was only nine o’clock. That never… and then the reality of today came crashing back into her mind and she understood completely. Buffy knew she’d kissed Liam and she’d well and truly broken up with Oz. No wonder she’d been escaping into sleep. It beat being awake and having a pity-and-anxiety party.  
  
But there was no hiding now; she needed to get over to Buffy’s house right away. Because yeah, Liam had told her to just wait at home, but he didn’t know that Buffy knew about the kissing and there was no way she was going to leave him to face Buffy alone and unprepared.   
  
Running upstairs, she grabbed a jacket and a stake from her room… speaking of which – she was also going to have a talk with Liam about taking that knife. Sure, the cause was a good one, but the principle… Was tomorrow going to be as tough as today? Because if it was, maybe she should just sleep through it.  
  
  
  
It made sense that they were taking Wesley’s car – Giles’s Citroen was ridiculously underperforming on the best days – but did the pompous little shit have to keep checking his rearview mirror and acting as if it was some big shock that Angel and Liam didn’t appear in it? Angel was becoming annoyed. Yes, he and Liam were vampires, but he was tired of being constantly reminded of the little things which differentiated him from humans as if they were in and of themselves evil and scary and… wrong.  
  
So what if he couldn’t see himself in a mirror? He still had better hair than Wesley. And better taste in clothing.   
  
A memory suddenly emerged – Willow scrutinizing him in the library, asking him in her serious way: “How do you shave?” But nothing about her manner or tone had been insulting, merely curious and interested. She never made him feel like his being a vampire was something distasteful or uncomfortable. Was the fact that they were friends now what made Wesley so irritating?   
  
Why was he thinking about this right now? Was it Liam who was making him examine things he’d once taken for granted? Maybe he was just trying to think about anything but Buffy. Buffy, at whose house his presence wasn’t really required right now.  
  
A part of him was incredibly glad that Liam had been the one to find the heart. It would go a long way towards maintaining a vital distance if Angel _wasn’t_ the hero this time. But another part of him… No, this was what was best. He was never going to be Buffy’s lover – never again – and stepping away now would make his leaving less painful when he departed Sunnydale.  
  
Less painful for _her_ anyway. She would still have what Angel was going to have to leave behind… and after having it for such a short time. Friendship. At least one of them would know its comforts.  
  
Here at last. Good. The sooner they could restore the bitch’s mind, the sooner Liam could get home to… Willow. Who was hurrying up to the house just as he was exiting the car. Hadn’t he told her…? But no, she wasn’t going to obey him on this one. He should have known.   
  
“Willow.”  
  
“Liam.” She sounded nervous and he had to admit to a certain pleasure in her obvious fear of displeasing him. It was a sign and an encouraging one.   
  
Nevertheless, he didn’t want her feeling badly. “It’s okay. I figured you’d come.”  
  
“I…” She motioned for him to lean in close. He was confused and the others were impatient, but he did as she bade. What she whispered was more of a shock than it should have been. “Buffy knows that we kissed.”  
  
  
  
Buffy was lying in her bed, moaning and incapable of separating her own thoughts from the hurricane in her head. No more self, no more Buffy. Her mind was a horrifying, screaming ball of chaos and it felt as if it was about to explode only it wouldn’t. It just wouldn’t blow up and make everything stop.  
  
“Buffy.” That was a voice, wasn’t it? A real voice.   
  
Angel. It was Angel… two Angels. How could… Oh yeah. One was Liam. Her head hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. “No,” she moaned. She didn’t want him to see her like this. He was holding a glass of something weird and blue.  
  
Seeing Buffy like this… It was horrible, but Angel held back his reaction, not wanting to upset her. As if anything could do more damage than had already been done. He went to her and knelt by the bed. “I’m gonna help you.” He put the glass to her lips and held it carefully as she drained the contents.   
  
  
  
Willow was standing with Giles and Wesley and Joyce and… Liam in the living room. All of them were too anxious to talk. Well, maybe Wesley wasn’t anxious. He might just have been scared of Liam. Which was good because she so did not want to hear any of his ‘the Council says’ nonsense tonight.  
  
Yes, she knew she was in for it when Buffy got her faculties back, but she still wanted her to be okay and she had all kinds of ‘what ifs’ running through her head. ‘What if this doesn’t work’ being chief among them.   
  
Suddenly, a voice from upstairs seemed to confirm her worst fears. “Giles!” That was Angel and it wasn’t his ‘hallelujah’ voice. Did he _have_ a ‘hallelujah’ voice? Well, yeah, kind of. He’d sounded pretty joyous when they bought his computer. So yeah, he had a ‘hallelujah’ voice… and this wasn’t it. Oh god.  
  
But she wasn’t going to stay down here like a big chicken while everyone else faced the possible tragedy upstairs, so she raced off with the others to find out just what was going on.  
  
  
  
Just as Angel had finished calling out for Giles, and much to his relief, Buffy’s convulsions stilled and she grew calm and peaceful in his arms. “Hey,” she said softly. “It’s so quiet in here.” She said the word ‘quiet’ the way she used to say his name and Angel’s heart broke for what she’d endured today.  
  
“It worked.” He let go of her and let her sit up, but she clung to his arm.  
  
“Thank you,” she breathed.  
  
“Don’t thank me.” He paused, then gave the credit to the one to whom it belonged. “Liam’s the one who found the second demon and got its heart for the potion. He’s the one you should thank.”  
  
The second the words had left his mouth, Liam and the others came rushing in.  
  
Buffy was still adjusting to her brain transforming from the Long Beach Arena to the public library in a matter of seconds, but she’d heard one thing clear as day: Liam had saved her. And if it wasn’t for the fact that that telepathy had been the most painful and horrible thing she’d ever endured (except for sending Angel to Hell), she would have rather not have been saved at all. As it was… “Thank you,” she said, with as much grace as she could muster. She could have sworn Liam smirked, but again, it was gone so quickly that she couldn’t prove it – even to herself.   
  
His face was back to his normal irritating blankness when he nodded and said, “You’re welcome,” sounding sort of like Angel.  
  
But she knew he was up to something – and now she knew for sure that the something involved Willow. He’d put the moves on her and everything. Learning about the kissing... Yeah, telepathy was the key to learning a whole lot of really awful things, including… “Do we know who’s planning on killing everyone?”  
  
That was so Buffy – the first thing she thought about was saving the world. Willow wanted to rush over and hug her, but Joyce was already there. “Oh honey. Thank God you’re alright!”  
  
“Yes,” Giles added, clearly choked up but way too British for an emotional display  
  
Willow’s mind went right back to Buffy’s question. She felt horrible, but she had to tell Buffy the truth. “No. I’m sorry. I made worksheets and sample questions and everything but we still have no idea who the wannabe killer is.”  
  
Glancing at Liam and Angel, Willow realized they were both totally confused. She’d explain it to them… well, maybe now, since Buffy’s Mom looked like she’d really like them to leave. For a moment Willow felt a pang. If only her mother… No, she wasn’t jealous. She didn’t begrudge Buffy a mother who really cared. It was just that it might be nice if she had one of those too, that was all.  
  
In the meantime, Buffy _did_ have one and that mother clearly wanted to be alone with her now-telepathy-free daughter.  
  
“I’ll get to school early and see about getting a jump on things, okay?” Joyce moved slightly, allowing Willow to give her friend a hug. “Good night, Buffy. I’m so glad you’re okay.”  
  
“Will…” Buffy seemed to want her to stay and Willow didn’t need to think too hard to figure out why. Boy was she grateful for Joyce right now.  
  
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said, glad she was being vague enough that she could weasel out of a Liam-centered discussion later on.  
  
The look Buffy gave her sort of dimmed her optimism on the weaseling front, but then again, maybe tomorrow she’d be murdered by some psychotic killer anyway. “Good night,” she said again before slipping out of the room.  
  
Liam waited a moment, trading stares with the girl on the bed. Obviously she didn’t understand the concept of gratitude because while she had _said_ ‘thank you’, her gaze said anything but. Guess she wasn’t too happy about his burgeoning relationship with Willow.   
  
Tough.  
  
“Good night,” he offered in a kind and genial tone. Then he followed his girl out the door and back downstairs.  
  
  
  
Angel had stayed for a minute or two with Giles and Wesley and Joyce, letting Buffy fill him in on some of the highlights of the threat to the student body at Sunnydale High and accepting thanks which he hadn’t really earned. Now he was downstairs with everyone but Joyce, who’d remained with her daughter, and he was processing some puzzling things. Why had Buffy shot odd looks between her mother and Giles? Why was she still so unwilling to like Liam?   
  
He didn’t get it. Yes, Buffy was stubborn – sometimes maddeningly so – but this was ridiculous even for her. Liam had saved her sanity. “We should probably leave now,” he suggested over something Wesley was saying in which he had no interest whatsoever. The man looked miffed. Good.   
  
“Yes, well, I suppose you’re right,” Wesley sniffed.   
  
Giles spoke up. “Willow, would you like me to drive you home?”  
  
“We can walk her home.” Liam’s vehemence was a little startling and Angel stared for a moment.  
  
Still, he backed up his… friend. Liam was his friend now. “Yeah. We’ll walk her home. That way we can discuss what’s happening at the school.”  
  
“Yes, well. I am sure we’ll solve this. Thank you. Thank you both, again, for what you’ve done…” Giles was so clearly still uncomfortable with Liam, but in a move that surprised Angel, and happily so, he walked over and shook Liam’s hand. “Thank _you_.”  
  
Liam was taken aback by Rupert Giles’s sudden gesture of gratitude, but he played it off and shook the man’s hand. After all, he _had_ saved Buffy and it was only fitting that he receive some recognition for it. “I’m glad I could help,” he replied. For the first time he wondered – did Angel ever feel like this? Did he ever feel a certain superiority to these humans who doled out tidbits of gratitude as if they were precious jewels? Other than their appearance – and some of their history - were they similar at all?   
  
That was silly though, wasn’t it? Because if Angel were like him, Darla wouldn’t be dust in this world. “We should go before it gets too late.”  
  
“G’night, Giles,” Willow said and then as an afterthought, “Oh, goodbye, Wesley.” She was in the habit of forgetting him. To her surprise, she felt guilty about it for the first time. Maybe it was because she’d been trying harder to be a good person today.  
  
But now Liam was practically dragging her out the door so her mind immediately traveled to other topics… like being paranoid that Angel would be able to tell immediately that she’d practically made out with Liam last night.   
  
“I’m really glad that Buffy’s okay now,” she said as she and Liam and Angel made their way up the drive to the sidewalk. “That telepathy thing – scary, huh?” Could she just kick herself right now? Because the telepathy was the last thing she wanted to bring up specifically. Thanks to it, Buffy now knew about things she really didn’t need to know at all.   
  
Angel realized he wasn’t done with puzzling things tonight. There was something… Willow seemed awfully… well… _awkward_ right now and Liam was… He’d been awfully proprietary towards Willow tonight, hadn’t he? Quick to say what she’d do, touching her…  
  
He’d noticed this, he realized, for awhile now; he just hadn’t connected the dots.  
  
Liam had feelings for Willow. Feelings Willow might be aware of.  
  
This was not good. Not for either of them. He and Liam needed to have a talk. Tonight.  
  
  
  
As much as Buffy loved her Mom, she was glad when she finally left the room and gave her some peace – though, sadly, she couldn't stop thinking about all those really terrible things she'd learned, at least the ones she'd picked up before everything turned into total noise. The thought of Mom and Giles doing it ( _twice_ ) on the hood of a police car was going to stay in her head forever. Too bad that wasn’t the worst thing she’d learned with her former telepathy. And no, it wasn’t the upcoming killing spree, because learning that was probably of the good, at least if they were able to stop it.  
  
Nope, the very worst thing she’d learned was that Willow had locked lips with Liam. The thought made Buffy’s skin crawl. It was déjà vu all over again: Willow was being used for some nefarious purpose by a creep, just like when she’d done the internet dating thing with Malcolm… who turned out to be Moloch the Corrupter.  
  
It also occurred to Buffy that this was the _second_ time Willow had cheated on Oz. As much as she loved her best friend, she felt really bad about what was happening and she worried about what Oz would do if he found out that Willow was making with the smoochies with yet _another_ guy. She understood so much better now what he must have gone through when he walked in on Willow and Xander at the factory.  
  
Okay, no matter what, she was having a serious talk with Willow tomorrow.   
  
Unless they were all murdered.  
  
  
  
The walk back to her house had been pretty quiet, kind of eerily so, after she’d explained what she knew about tomorrow’s big danger. It hadn’t taken long since she didn’t actually know much.   
  
“We’re here,” she said both pointlessly and belatedly once they’d entered her living room. Way to go, Willow. No way will Angel think anything’s up.  
  
More frighteningly awkward silence, and then Angel spoke. “I thought maybe Liam could come back and stay with me now.”  
  
That was both a great idea and possible proof that Willow’s fears were right on target. Angel didn’t sound all freaked or angry or anything though, so maybe he was just lonely and wanted his twin back under his roof. Gosh she hoped so. Plus, having Liam move out would definitely make things easier on her.  
  
“Ummm…” She was about to say something about that being fine, but Liam answered first.  
  
“I’m not comfortable there.”   
  
Oh God. How had she not thought of what he’d gone through there just a short time ago? Of course. He had to still be traumatized by the whole ‘rape threat’ and the flashbacks and everything. “You can stay here as long as you need to,” she reassured him.   
  
Liam crowed inwardly. He’d counted on his love’s kind and caring nature and he hadn’t been wrong. He knew too that deep down she wanted him to stay for more reasons than her innate compassion and generosity. “Thank you.” He allowed the memories Angel’s cruel masquerade had revived to come into his thoughts, knowing she’d see the emotion in his eyes. The touch of her hand on his arm proved him right.  
  
“Well, if you’re going to be here longer, I should give you some more clothes,” Angel agreed mildly, raising Liam’s concern. What was going on? “Why don’t you walk me back there so I can at least do that for you? You don’t have to come in.”  
  
Liam was definitely on guard now, but there was no way to say no, not one that wouldn’t create conflict, and anyway, his curiosity was piqued. “Okay.” He turned to Willow. “I’ll be back soon.” Fighting the urge to kiss her on the cheek, he followed Angel back to the door.   
  
“Good night, Willow.” Angel smiled at her, knowing that he was about to protect her from even more heartbreak. After all, who knew better than he did about the futility of a human becoming involved with a cursed vampire? She’d been through enough damage with Oz.   
  
Then there was Liam, who had suffered greatly as well and needed to be warned before his heart ached as badly as Angel’s.  
  
Once they’d left the house, they walked silently for a bit, Angel waiting until they were well away before speaking. “I know you have feelings for Willow.”  
  
The look on Liam’s face told him he was right on the money.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Feral (Chapter Twenty-Eight)  
  
  
  
“I know you have feelings for Willow.”  
  
Shit. Not that Liam hadn’t suspected there was an ulterior motive behind Angel’s invitation to move back to the mansion and then, when that was declined, the offer of more clothing, but still, he’d rather hoped it wasn’t this. Had Buffy said something?  
  
For a moment, he feared that was the case, but then logic kicked in – there was no chance Buffy had said something in front of Giles and Wesley, especially since neither man had said a word when they came downstairs. No, all Angel had noticed was his partiality. While he was still not pleased with himself for letting down his guard to such an extent, it wasn’t as problematic as Angel knowing about the kisses – though he’d undoubtedly know soon. It wasn’t as if Buffy could keep her mouth shut, stupid cow.  
  
“Yes,” he admitted in that same abashed manner he’d observed in his counterpart – that manner he prayed to every god who’d listen to a vampire he’d never sincerely shared. Allowing his toe to scuff the ground, he repeated himself. “Yes, I do.”  
  
At this moment, Angel felt nothing but sympathy for Liam. He knew what it was like to fall for a human, and knowing that nothing could ever come of it made it all the more painful. But that only made it more imperative that he help Liam nip this in the bud. “The curse…” he started.  
  
“I know. I know what it means.” Something about Liam’s words struck Angel slightly oddly, but looking into his eyes… no, there was nothing but sincerity there and Angel shook off his reaction as being part of what he had to admit was residual and unwarranted jealousy at Liam being the one to save Buffy tonight.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Angel replied, probably more for what he felt than for the assumption that Liam needed to be reminded about that barrier to love they both endured. “I know you know about the curse. Willow told you about…” He paused, not enjoying the memories of soulless killing and his recent pretense of having lost his soul again. “And I know you’d never do anything risky. I just… I know what it’s like to fall in love with someone. To have that person consume your whole being. The temptation… It’s harder to resist than anyone can imagine.”  
  
Liam was almost bursting with sadistic pleasure right now. If Angel only knew… But he kept his features schooled into an expression of forlorn resignation and made sure not to give away the fact that he had a secret… a secret that meant he’d be happy, unlike Angel. “I would never do anything to endanger Willow… or anyone else.” He meant that, at least for the most part. The world mattered to him; it wasn’t as if he’d forgotten his redemption. But was he sure of the need for simon purity after everything he’d endured, after everything he’d seen and what he’d learned about the grey and the dark grey and what souls and humanity amounted to in the end? After all, hadn’t his two truest allies in his own world been his soulless sire and a robot?  
  
He turned eyes full of soppy sincerity on Angel. “I understand why you’re concerned. I do. But you don’t need to worry. I swear to you that I won’t do anything that would risk the loss of my soul.” Considering the fact that he’d stake himself before he’d fuck Buffy or Faith, no statement could possibly be more truthful.  
  
His reward was a comradely hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. But if it helps, I know what you’re going through. If you ever need to talk…” For a moment, Liam thought this little chat was over, but then Angel came up with a new question. “Does Willow know how you feel?”  
  
  
  
Fingernails really didn’t taste very good, Willow realized as she caught herself chewing on one, surprised at what she was doing. She hadn’t bitten her fingernails since she was a little girl and her mother had said something disapproving about how that was the sort of habit in which only neurotic children indulged. Neurotic from her mother was practically a four letter word and she’d gotten the message really quick. No more nail-biting for Willow. Well, at least until now.  
  
The phone suddenly rang and she nearly fell off her chair. Who could it be? It rang again and she realized there was no way to know without answering it. So she got up and, with a lot of anxiety, picked up the receiver. “Hello?”  
  
“Will? Any news?”  
  
Darn! She should have called him since she was the only one who would. Not like Buffy was in the mood for hearing any more voices tonight, even on the phone. “I was just about to call you,” she lied. “Liam got the demon heart and Buffy’s okay.”  
  
“Thank God.” Xander was clearly relieved and Willow was thrilled that he hadn’t said anything nasty about… “Liam, huh?” He didn’t sound as grateful as he should. Guess her relief had been premature.  
  
“Yeah, Liam. You know, he really is one of the good guys, Xander. Maybe you need to accept that. Especially since he just saved Buffy and all.”  
  
“I know. And it’s great. It really is.”  
  
She heard a ‘but’ at the end of that statement even if it wasn’t actually audible, but frankly she wasn’t in the mood to argue with him.  
  
“Are you okay?” he asked, jolting her out of her brief reverie and reminding her of this afternoon. It was so sweet of him to remember her, by comparison to what Buffy had gone through, pretty minor tragedy.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I know you said you weren’t ready to talk yet, but…”  
  
“It had nothing to do with happened between you and me, I promise, okay? Oz and I… we just weren’t meant to be.” Funny enough, Willow was pretty sure that was the truth. If your boyfriend really loved you, he wouldn’t talk behind your back or distrust your judgment. And if you really loved _him_ , you wouldn’t go around kissing other guys. “I really am okay. I mean it. It’s not my best day ever, but…”  
  
“You’re okay,” Xander finished for her.  
  
She smiled against the receiver. When the chips were down, Xander was a really good friend. It truly was all for the best that things hadn’t worked out for them the other way. Good friends didn’t grow on trees.  
  
“Thanks,” she offered. “Oh. Got any ideas on who the soon-to-be-killer is?”  
  
  
  
Carrying the nicest suitcase he owned, and some of his best clothes, Angel walked out of the mansion and joined Liam at the top of the crumbling stone steps. Come to think of it, he ought to have someone come out and repair those… except it didn’t really matter, did it? He’d be leaving soon. “Here,” he handed the bag to Liam, “I figure by now you probably need something else to wear.”  
  
“Thanks.” His double was as inscrutable as he was. It was still so strange to _see_ rather than just feel that expressionlessness. The experience hadn’t struck his conscious mind so forcefully before and he was shaken. The man standing a foot away from him was… him. Well, a version of him anyway. Eyes, hair, body, manner. Liam was the mirror he’d been denied for centuries. He caught himself staring.  
  
But the mirror wasn’t true. He knew that. Beneath the skin there were so many differences. What, he wondered, did Liam see when he looked at Willow? It must be so different from what Angel did. Of course, the reverse was true: When Liam looked at Buffy, Angel knew he didn’t for one second see the shining, golden girl who had stolen Angel’s heart. How had they become two such different men? He was curious, more curious than ever, about the world Liam came from. There must have been some serious divergences in events and circumstances, more than just Buffy not showing up when she’d been supposed to, to have made him the man he was… the man whose tastes and drives were so far apart from his.  
  
Still, he wasn’t sure of how different they really were. “Are you sure it’s safe? Staying with Willow?”  
  
Liam scoffed inwardly at Angel, but he kept his answers careful and prevaricating, as well as ever-so-subtly insulting. “I can control myself around her, don’t worry. Sex isn’t something I’m obsessed with.” That last was delivered with eyes averted, all the better to remind Angel of both the recent threats he’d made to Liam and of the pleasures Angel so obviously missed.  
  
He could feel Angel’s discomfort, but as much as he enjoyed it, he knew that allaying it would be best for him in the long run. “It’s not the same way that things are with you and Buffy. Willow doesn’t…” Allowing his voice to trail off, he met Angel’s gaze.  
  
“She doesn’t love you.” Liam could hear the pity. He was safe for now, but… He decided to head Buffy off at the pass.  
  
“I kissed her,” he said softly, the words spoken as if a painful admission.  
  
Taking a step back in shock, Angel almost tripped. He hadn’t expected that. “You kissed her?” Liam seemed quite abashed and Angel immediately regretted his reaction. He could only imagine what Willow’s response must have been and that would have to have been punishment enough. Willow seemed drawn to a far milder sort of… well, _boy_. “I’m sorry,” he immediately added. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just…”  
  
“I know,” Liam snapped and Angel could hardly blame him. He still recalled the way Buffy had reacted when she first saw his true face. It hurt to be rejected by the one you loved, even if, as in Liam’s case, you knew there was no future and that the girl you loved would never love you back. “Sorry.”  
  
Of course Angel accepted the apology; it wasn’t even necessary for Liam to have made it. “I’m glad it hasn’t hurt your friendship,” he offered.  
  
Liam smiled at him, obviously glad of that very fact. Well, this was one thing they had in common: They both knew that Willow’s friendship was not some consolation prize. Hoisting the suitcase with obvious intent, Liam finally said, “I’d better get back. It’s getting late.”  
  
  
  
The click of the phone back on the receiver was swallowed up by the sound of footsteps entering Willow’s house. Liam was back. Oh gosh. She heard his footsteps on the stairs. Should she play chicken and close her door? No, no, they needed to talk. A second later, there he was, standing in her doorway. He set a suitcase down in the hall.  
  
“Guess Angel came through with the clothes.”  
  
“He did.”  
  
“Wonder if he gave you his satin shirt?” she mused, remembering the night they went to that goth club to check out Ford and how that vamp wannabe had dressed just like Angel. It had been pretty funny.  
  
Liam fought back a scowl, not enjoying her reverie, a reverie he neither understood nor was a part of and he spoke up, rashly, he realized as soon as he’d spoken. “I told Angel.”  
  
The look on her face showed that she knew exactly what he meant. “Oh. I… I guess that was probably good.” But her voice sounded sad and dispirited and hurt and he hated himself for being so thoughtless out of petty jealousy over a memory whose contents he didn’t even know.  
  
“I’m sorry.” He walked into the room and sat beside her on her bed. “I just wanted him to hear it from me instead of from Buffy. I thought that way he’d be more understanding.”  
  
A sigh was his only answer for a few moments and then she said, “Yeah. You’re right. I’m just…” He leaned in, but she edged away. “Liam.” His name sounded like ‘no’.  
  
“Willow,” he began, but she cut him off.  
  
“Look, we… we can’t do this. I know it’s not just you. I mean hey, I was there both times and I didn’t say no, but I should have. There’s Oz – there _was_ Oz – but there’s the curse, too. This just isn’t a good idea. We’re friends and I care about you a lot, but it can’t be anything more, okay?”  
  
‘Was.’ She’d said there _was_ Oz. Oh how he longed for an explanation of that, but now was not the time – nor was it the time to tell her that the curse didn’t stand in their way. She was unstrung by Buffy’s impending bout of hypocritical and jealous hectoring and by the prospect of a lover who was far more than she was used to. Liam understood that. He’d expected some indecision and confusion and, while it irked him, he could deal with it… and soon overcome it. Strategy and cunning were called for. “I know,” he said softly. “You know I would never do anything to jeopardize my soul… or your life.” He locked eyes with her. He almost wished for his late, unlamented Drusilla’s gift of thrall, but no… he was no Svengali. He didn’t want his girl to only be his through some supernatural means. But he did project his strength and his will. Both, he knew, were what she needed in a lover, even if she wasn’t yet ready to acknowledge that.  
  
“I know.” Her voice sounded strange, even to herself. She couldn’t take her eyes away from his. He wasn’t Oz – or Xander – was he? For a moment she regretted allowing him to stay, but that was silly and she knew it. He wouldn’t hurt her. “I’m pretty tired. Is it okay if we talk tomorrow or something? I have to make sure and get to school early. We still have to find that killer.”  
  
“Of course.” She did have a point and Liam certainly felt that stopping a massacre was important, so he smiled kindly as he spoke. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” With that, he got up and left the room, retrieving the suitcase of clothing and taking it down the hall to his own quarters. Soon enough he’d find out if Angel _had_ given him a satin shirt. He rather hoped so.  
  
  
  
Willow had been as good as her word, waking up early and getting dressed and out of the house in time to get to school almost forty-five minutes before first bell. She got to the library just as Buffy was arriving. “Hey,” she caroled, just a bit too cheerily. Not that she was nervous or anything. Get it together, Willow. There were bigger things going on than her smoochies. Buffy for sure had to be more worried about the killer they still hadn’t identified… well, except… “You know, I’ve been thinking and the more I do, the more I think we really need to talk to Freddy Iverson. None of us were able to interview him yesterday.”  
  
Whoa. Buffy hadn’t exactly been prepared to be hit with Willow’s ‘detective’ persona first thing, but it wasn’t completely unexpected. Willow was obviously trying to avoid personal chitchat. Frankly, Buffy wasn’t looking forward to the ‘Liam talk’ either, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to have a serious talk with her best friend. First, though, she acknowledged Willow’s observation. “His editorials _are_ pretty creepy. I’m with you on this one. We’ll have to track him down.” She tried the library door; Giles seemed to be as early as they were because it was unlocked. “After you.”  
  
“Thanks.” Willow’s voice shook. She knew she was in for it now. She was barely inside before Buffy confronted her.  
  
“What’s going on with you and Liam? What about Oz?”  
  
Okay, she at least had the answer to one of those questions. “I broke up with Oz yesterday.” Wow. Buffy’s jaw was almost on the floor. She went on, sounding more confident and undisturbed than she actually felt. “We weren’t working out. Even before… he didn’t trust me, not about anything. What happened with Liam just made me more sure that he and I should never have gotten back together. You can’t have a relationship without trust.”  
  
Willow’s words echoed in Buffy’s head, reminding her uncomfortably of her own problems with Angel, but that was something to think about later. Right now, she had to admit that in one respect, Willow had conducted herself… well, better than Buffy had thought of her last night and she felt sort of ashamed of herself. “I’m glad… I mean, not glad that you guys broke up, but…”  
  
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to hurt Oz, and I don’t want him to hurt me.” Willow’s arms were crossed over her chest  
  
“That makes sense.” Willow’s manner made her uncomfortable. “Look, Will, I am not trying to start an argument or anything, but Liam…”  
  
“Saved you last night.” This was unreal. When was Buffy going to get over her ridiculous hatred of Liam. “You know, I sort of thought that maybe you’d see that he’s one of the good guys now. He saved your life. Without him, Giles would be making arrangements to send you to some isolated safe house in the middle of nowhere like that other guy who got the telepathy aspect. Could you just for one second consider the possibility that you’ve been wrong about him? Because I know what it’s like to admit you’ve made a mistake and it’s nowhere near as tough as you seem to think it is.”  
  
“He kissed you! What about the curse?”  
  
Now Willow was furious. “That is so not fair. And hey, if kissing could take away his soul, Angel would have lost it with you about nine hundred times.”  
  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
  
“Oh, so what you mean is that I’m so careless and stupid that I’ll just have sex with Liam and not even think about the curse.”  
  
“I didn’t mean that either.” Buffy felt as though this whole conversation had spun way out of control. She tried another tack, hoping to calm Willow’s temper. “I… Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m very grateful for what Liam did for me. It’s just… You’re my best friend. I just don’t want to see anyone hurt you or take advantage of you.”  
  
“Because I’m a blithering idiot who can’t take care of herself. I get it.” She turned and headed back towards the door before Buffy could stop her. “I’m gonna go track down Freddie Iverson. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”  
  
“Wait. Please.” But Buffy’s words did nothing but make things worse.  
  
“Don’t worry. If he shoots me, you'll get to say ‘I told you so’ at my funeral.” With that, Willow was gone.  
  
“My God. She’s involved with Liam?” Buffy whirled around. Oh God. Giles. She'd forgotten he might be in here. And he had been. Well, at least now she had someone to talk to about this.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Feral (Chapter Twenty-Nine)  
  
  
  
  
Buffy had stopped a suicide _and_ a mass murder, all before lunch. Shouldn’t there be some sort of euphoria? But there wasn’t, because she was on the outs with her best friend. This needed to be fixed. She headed over to Willow’s locker, glad to see that she was there. “Hey.”  
  
The greeting she got in return didn’t register much on the ‘effusive meter’. “Hi.” Well, at least Willow was speaking to her, right? Though that probably had more to do with the averted massacre than anything else.  
  
“Good job – figuring out about Jonathan.” Her smile felt crooked as she spoke. Darn it.   
  
Willow’s tone was clipped as she answered. “Cordelia’s the one who found the letter. I should have known yesterday when I talked to him.”  
  
“Will, you were looking for a murderer, not someone who was suicidal. Anyone would have missed it.” She meant that, too. Yeah, sure, the _letter_ had been cryptic, but she was sure that if Jonathan had been homicidal, Willow would have figured it out. Other than with Liam, she was pretty sharp. Well, there was also Malcolm, and Anya, and… Okay, Willow didn’t always hit the mark judging people’s characters, but that didn’t mean she thought Willow was gullible. It was just that Willow was naturally good-hearted and she tended to give people the benefit of the doubt. And hey! Sometimes she was right. Like with Oz.  
  
For a moment Buffy wondered… what if maybe Willow was right about Liam, too? What if Buffy was all overwrought over nothing? He _did_ go out and kill that demon and save her sanity and all. So yeah, maybe…  
  
No, she didn’t actually think she was wrong, but she wanted it to be true, if only because she missed the way things used to be with her and Willow. She hadn’t realized how much she counted on that friendship until it was damaged. “Look, about this morning…” Willow’s face looked like someone had hung a ‘Closed’ sign on it and Buffy scrambled to get her to listen instead of walk away. “Please listen to me, okay? I know I have issues with Liam and they seem unfair to you and… Maybe they are. Maybe I’m totally wrong about him. Because hey, totally grateful for the silence in my head, and I mean that. The point is, I’m gonna try harder. I am.”  
  
Looking into Buffy’s eyes… Willow wanted to believe her. She wasn’t sure, but she had to give her another chance. Was she still angry? Yeah, but she loved Buffy. Buffy was her best friend. So she would give her chances aplenty. “Okay. But you know, Liam’s the one you should really be apologizing to.”  
  
Buffy looked like a deer caught in the headlights and Willow’s spirits began to drop, but then… “All right. I’ll do that.” She paused and Willow almost spoke, but then Buffy added, “You know, I don’t think you’re an idiot or gullible or any of the things you… I respect you. I do. And I know you would never do anything that would make Liam lose his soul, okay? I know that.”  
  
Willow couldn’t help herself. She pulled Buffy into a tight hug. “Thank you.” It felt like the weight of the world was lifted off her. Everything was going to be okay – between her and Buffy _and_ between Liam and Buffy. Because, yeah, things were a little weird after the kissing thing, but Liam was still her friend and she was almost as grateful as Buffy for what he’d done in tracking down that demon. Plus, it was pretty cool to hear that Buffy realized she wasn’t a moron.  
  
Now that this was all cleared up, it was time to change the subject to something she was sure was a lot less fraught. “How are things with Angel?”  
  
Judging by the look on Buffy’s face, Willow had just made a critical error in judgment. Maybe she _was_ a moron after all.  
  
  
  
It was late morning, but Liam wasn’t awake. Last night had been difficult and rest elusive; his eyes had finally stayed closed shortly after sunrise. Sleep, however, was no untroubled refuge. He tossed and turned, caught in his dreams.  
  
 _”Puppy.” The smooth, demonic purr of his vampire captor, the one who wore the face of his love… he could never forget that voice and now, here it was, in his ear again. “Have you missed me?”  
  
He was nude, arms chained over his head, a ball gag in his mouth prevented him from speaking. The terror – it’s as if he was starting over with her… and Xander.  
  
“I like you this way.” The consort spoke, running his hand down Liam’s back, over his buttocks. “We should have stuck with the gag.”  
  
Willow pouted… Liam hated that pout. “But I like what he does with his tongue.”  
  
“Yeah, but when his mouth isn’t full, he’s all annoying with the ‘don’t’ and the ‘please stop’ and the whimpering.”  
  
This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. But he wasn’t waking up. He was trapped and there was no escape. They were going to…  
  
But wait. The cuffs around his hands… they were loose. He could work his hands through. As his captors continued their ‘playful’ bickering, enumerating all of the things they wanted to do to him as they did, he silently freed his hands, wrapping the chains around his wrists, hoping they didn’t notice he was loose.  
  
They didn’t. In fact, they felt safe enough to turn their backs on him. It was then that he spied the stake. What it was doing in his cell didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was there, and within reach if he moved fast enough. Letting go of the chains, he dove and rolled and…  
  
It was in Xander’s back and through his heart before either of his tormentors even realized he was free. The dust of that bastard lingered in the air as Liam grabbed Willow and threw her to the floor, pinning her beneath him. He held her arms with one hand as he used the other to divest himself of the gag. “Well, well, look who the bitch is now? Now you’re gonna be the one who barks.”  
  
He reached down to undo her trousers, his cock rock hard at the thought of forcing her, humiliating her.   
  
But no sooner had he pulled them down her thighs and thrust inside her when… she changed. It took a few moments to realize… to hear the change in the tone of the agonized howls, to see the tears of pain and betrayal in the eyes of the girl on whom he was forcing himself. Not until he saw his tormentor smirking at him from across the room did he realize… Oh no. Oh God.  
  
The girl beneath him was his Willow._  
  
Liam awoke with a start, panting with fear. He was impossibly grateful to find himself in the familiar, sterile bedroom at Willow’s house. It had been a dream, only a dream, a hideous, horrible nightmare. Still, it left him shaken. He couldn’t imagine… No, he could never hurt Willow, he _would_ never hurt Willow. This was all merely the dredging up from his subconscious of not only his ordeal in his own world, but the added torment he’d endured at the hands of Angel and that Slayer-whore, Faith. Undoubtedly visiting the mansion last night had triggered it. Yes, that was it.  
  
He got out of bed and headed for the shower. Washing off the last traces of the dream state seemed like a fine idea. A cup of blood afterwards and he’d be ready to get right back on the search for information about the Box of Gavrok.  
  
  
  
“Did you hear? Jonathan was suspended. I can’t believe they only suspended him. They _fired_ the lunch lady.”   
  
Leave it to Cordelia. “Well, it would be kind of hard for her to do her job while she’s in jail,” Willow responded, not happy that Cordelia had just barged right into the computer lab – the computer lab where she and Buffy had hoped, obviously in vain, to have a private conversation.  
  
Cordelia, oblivious to the fact that no one cared what she thought, babbled on. “Yeah, but shouldn’t Jonathan be in jail, too?”  
  
“Um, since he didn’t try to kill anyone but himself…”   
  
“That is so not the point. What if he’d missed? And what about the trauma?”  
  
Okay, as much as she didn’t want to prolong this, Buffy felt compelled to say something. “Cordelia. Did you even know who Jonathan _was_ before this morning?”  
  
“That is so _not_ the point!”  
  
“Well what is the point? Because in case you didn’t notice – and I’m guessing you didn’t – Willow and I were having a conversation. About something important. And you weren’t invited.” Cocking her head towards the door, Buffy hoped their unwanted visitor got the point.   
  
She did. “Like I really want to talk to you two.” With that, Cordelia made a haughty exit.  
  
Willow humphed as her formerly-former nemesis departed, rolling her eyes for emphasis. “Could she be any farther from the point?” Oh well. At least Cordelia’s shallowness was good for a laugh. Nothing else was. “I’m really sorry about the whole Angel thing. I’m sure he’s not mad. I mean hey, he went out and looked for that demon, just like Liam did. And he brought you the potion and everything.” She did her best to sound totally optimistic because she was. Angel hadn’t said anything about being mad at Buffy… okay, so he hadn’t really said a whole lot about Buffy at all, but still, she was sure he’d have said _something_ if he was mad, wouldn’t he?  
  
“I just… He says he loves me, but,” Buffy reached across the table and took her hand, “he feels far away. Like he’s left me. I don’t know what to do.” Willow’s heart ached as she saw tears in Buffy’s eyes. “I love him so much.”  
  
“Do you want me to talk to him?” she offered.  
  
Buffy seemed about to say yes, but instead she said, “No thanks. I really appreciate the offer, but he got mad at me when I tried to read his mind and I don’t think asking one of my friends to talk to him would be the best thing right now.”  
  
Buffy had _deliberately_ tried to read his mind? Willow wasn’t so sure she thought that was okay. Then again, maybe a girl who’d kissed two different guys while she was someone else’s girlfriend wasn’t the best person to sit in judgment. Still… “You know, I think Angel would talk to you if you just asked him straight out what’s going on.”  
  
Sighing, Buffy nodded. “That’s pretty much what he said. It’s just that… it still feels like something’s missing.” Her mind flashed back to the mansion, to him telling her that she was the only one he ever loved… Oh god. He’d used the past tense. Did that mean…?  
  
She was reading too much into that. She had to be… right? But he’d put her off, saying they needed to focus on the Mayor and… No. He would have told her. He wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t string her along. He wouldn’t. “I’m probably being way over-thinky about this.” She was speaking as much to herself as to Willow. “He’s probably just really worried about the Mayor and all. He gets extra-broody when there’s an apocalypse.”  
  
“That’s it. I know that’s it.” Willow was holding her hand tightly and she sounded completely sincere. The look in her eyes was the same. The fact that Willow had spent a lot of time with Angel lately… it helped. For sure _she_ would know if Angel’s feelings had changed.  
  
Time to change the subject. “How are you holding up? I know breaking up with Oz couldn’t have been easy, even with the whole Liam thing.” She paused. Something had just occurred to her and she couldn’t believe it hadn’t before now. “Will? Do you have feelings for him?”  
  
Oh God. Of all the questions… Even Willow wasn’t totally sure about that one. Well, she was sure about one thing, so that’s how she answered. “I’m not in love with him. The kissing thing? Total, weird, out of the blue wackiness. It’s not gonna happen again.”  
  
Buffy looked really relieved, but Willow decided not to read anything into it. “It’s safer that way,” Buffy said, and Willow had to agree.   
  
“Wanna head for the library?” Willow was surprised at Buffy’s reaction to her pretty innocuous question. She looked… nauseous and kind of nervous. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Umm… you remember the candy? How all the adults got weird?” Okay, of course Willow remembered, but what did that have to do with…? “Well thanks to my very-much-not-missed telepathy, I found out something about that night.”  
  
Willow was now officially confused… and worried. “What?”  
  
Buffy took a deep breath and looked really green and ill. What could she possibly have found out? “My Mom and Giles? They had sex on the hood of a police car.”   
  
“What?!?”  
  
“Twice.”  
  
She felt as disturbed as Buffy looked, but then… She burst out laughing. “So, does this mean it’s time for you to have ‘the talk’ with your Mom?”  
  
  
  
The only problem Angel could see in using the computer was how easily he could become distracted. There were just so many things to do and see. It was astonishing. Books and videos and… yeah, he’d found the sex. Admittedly, it hadn’t been by accident. Give him a break. He was an adult vampire with needs.   
  
Did Willow look at these sites? No, that was silly. She was the sort of girl who blushed at the mere mention of sex. There was no way she was cruising for porn, especially not the kind Angel had just found.   
  
Wow. He hadn’t known humans were into so many of the same things he’d enjoyed back when he hadn’t had a soul. And some of the toys… he’d never seen one of _those_ before. He could have cried with want. But no, there was no time for this. He needed to get back to research. With a pang, he departed the porn site and headed back to the demon chat rooms.  
  
Of course, he bookmarked the site first.  
  
His mind, however, unlike his mouse, went back to Willow. Not in a sexual way, but in a curious way. Liam was in love with her and he was still confused by that. Even taking into account his recent realization that there were more divergent paths in their lives than he currently knew. Sure, she was pretty – maybe even beautiful if you could look past her terrible wardrobe and unstyled hair – but still, even taking into account the fact that Buffy wasn’t to Liam’s liking, which he supposed he could understand… Willow wasn’t even like Darla, who exemplified the type who’d appealed to him as a human and who, as far as he knew, had led both him and Liam down the bloodstained path. How could…?  
  
Drusilla.   
  
The name emerged in a whisper from the depths of him and he finally understood, though he didn’t want to. His attraction to Drusilla had been entirely from his demon and had nothing to do with the man. It concerned him – and oddly, it made him almost envious. Did this mean Liam had found a harmony with his demon that Angel hadn’t managed? Or was his demon too close to the surface?  
  
Shaking his head, he chided himself. He was overthinking this. Maybe Liam had just fallen for Willow because she’d been the kindest, gentlest, and most accepting of them all. Which made sense. Even if she did look exactly like one of his cruelest tormentors. That might, in fact, be part of it. Her resemblance to the vampire who’d tortured him could possibly have helped banish some of the nightmares. Angel wished there was someone who could do the same for him. As much as he loved Buffy, she couldn’t take away one moment of his suffering in Hell. There’d been a brief moment when she’d banished every thought of his demon – his identity, his evil – but that had ended badly… so very, very badly.  
  
He sighed. For a moment, jealousy flared up inside him. But then he remembered – Liam was fettered by the same curse that chained his spirit and what was more, the object of his affections didn’t return them. Guess when it all came down to it, Liam wasn’t any luckier than Angel. For all of their differences, they inhabited the same grey, lonely world.  
  
That saddened him, even if he would have been envious if it weren’t so. At heart, he didn’t want company in his misery. But there was nothing either he or Liam could do.  
  
Time to get back to work. Angel clicked on one of the links. Someone was claiming to be a courier on his way to Sunnydale.   
  
  
  
Giles was staring at her. Okay, maybe not _staring_ , but Willow caught him peering at her over the rims of his glasses more than once. She turned to Buffy and… That was guilt-face. Buffy had guilt-face. Great. Obviously Giles knew about the whole ‘kissing Liam’ thing and he was very much of the disapproving. You know, a guy who had sex with his Slayer’s Mom on the hood of a police car – twice! – should really be less judge-y. Could he please at least try to _look_ like everything was okay? Because Oz was walking in and she so did not want him to learn about what had happened. Breaking up with him was bad enough.   
  
Oz nodded, but said nothing. Instead, he headed for the stacks. Guess he was going to do research the old-fashioned way – or maybe he was just looking for something to read.   
  
“Hail the conquering hero.” Xander’s voice rang out as he entered the library and she giggled. The lunch lady had all but beaten him up and he had a bruise on his cheek to prove it. But she got that he didn’t really want to admit that Buffy had to save him… again.   
  
“Thanks for saving us,” Buffy offered drily as she rolled her eyes. Testosterone – it never failed. But Xander had made a pretty heroic effort, so he did deserve points for that.   
  
“Hey.” He walked over to Willow and judging from the very concerned look on his face, Buffy figured he was in on the big news about the split. Of course, just as he hugged her, Oz came back down the stairs. Please God, don’t let him get the wrong idea. Judging by the brief cloud that came across his expressionless face, her prayer had gone unanswered. “Oz,” Xander greeted, an edge in his voice that was sort of surprising. She was guessing that one thing Xander _didn’t_ know was the reason behind Willow’s break-up because he was pretty obviously blaming Oz. Great. Just when unity was needed, the Scooby Gang was falling to pieces  
  
Giles picked this precise moment to make a request. Great, because it wasn’t like there wasn’t already enough tension on top of the sundae of their day. “Willow? Might I have a word with you in the office?” Even greater? Willow looked like she wasn’t exactly Buffy’s biggest fan right now. She threw a very sheepish look Willow’s way as she watched her friend march off to certain doom (otherwise known as Giles’s extremely British disapproval).   
  
Xander seemed confused, but it seemed like he’d picked up on one thing. As soon as the office door closed, he turned to Oz and said, “There’s nothing going on between me and Willow. So if you’re looking to pass the blame buck? It doesn’t stop here. You might want to look in the mirror for whatever went wrong with you two.”  
  
While Xander wasn’t being fair, Buffy couldn’t say anything, not without revealing things she didn’t have the right to share. She still felt guilty about Giles knowing and that wasn’t even entirely her fault. So she simply watched in hurt and dismay as Oz left. He hadn’t said one word the whole time he’d been in the library. And he hadn’t bothered to put down the books he was carrying.  
  
Was that stealing?  
  
You know, she was being a lousy friend to him, yet again, wasn’t she? Okay, yes, her first loyalty was to Willow, but still…  
  
Without a word, she got up and raced out of the library. The least she could do was let Oz know that she knew he wasn’t a villain.  
  
  
  
Willow was shaking, literally, as she stood before Giles. He looked taller than usual and she felt very short. She was sure she was in for it.  
  
“Willow, I’m… I overheard… Oh for heaven’s sake. What on Earth possessed you to become involved with that vampire?”  
  
Looked like she was right.  
  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	31. Chapter Thirty

Feral (Chapter Thirty)  
  
  
  
“Willow, I’m… I overheard… Oh for heaven’s sake. What on Earth possessed you to become involved with that vampire?”  
  
Okay, this was going to be every bit as bad as Willow had feared. Or at least it would be if she couldn’t head Giles off at the pass with some reality. “We’re not involved, okay? It was just a kiss.” No actual need to tell him it was two, right?  
  
Of course she totally expected what came next. In fact, she was kind of surprised he hadn’t said it first thing. “What about Oz?”  
  
Willow sighed. “I broke up with him yesterday.” That seemed to take the wind out of Giles’s sails a bit. Good. She was sort of tired of playing the shameless hussy in the Scooby melodrama – though admittedly she had briefly auditioned for the part. “I figured that kissing another guy pretty much meant I wasn’t as committed to Oz as I should be and it wasn’t really all that fair to keep being his girlfriend.” Mentioning the other issues she had with him seemed like a bad idea, especially since it would mean bringing up Buffy’s distrust of Liam. That would not be helpful right now.  
  
“I’m… I think you did the right thing. That’s… It’s quite mature of you to realize that.” Wow. It was nice to hear that. More than nice, maybe. Of course, then the other shoe dropped. “But in the matter of Liam, I simply don’t understand…”  
  
Another sigh from Willow. She was doing that a lot, she noticed. “It was just a kiss. Neither one of us is sure why it happened, but we talked about it and it’s not going to happen again. It’s not like we feel that way about each other.” All right, so the strict truth was actually that she didn’t really know what she felt for Liam, or what he felt for her. Not like explaining that would be useful here. “And anyway, he knows about the curse and – hello – so do I. We are so not going there.” She knew that bringing up s-e-x even obliquely would help end this very uncomfortable conversation and she was right… though Giles’s eyeglass-polishing and reddening face didn’t exactly jibe with the whole ‘throwing Buffy’s Mom on the hood of a police car and doing it twice’ thing. Thinking about that now… You know, it wasn’t the image of Giles she really wanted in her head and she sort of wished Buffy hadn’t been so big with the sharing.   
  
“Yes… well. I am glad to hear that. We should… er… go join the others now. We still have a good deal of research to do.” He gestured to the door and Willow happily exited. She’d rather think about Mayor McCreepy than Giles and Joyce… or about Liam.  
  
  
  
Buffy stood in the parking lot, staring at Oz, who was staring back, and completely unsure of what to say now that ‘Stop’ and ‘Hey, can I talk to you?’ had been erased from her ‘to-do’ list. Well, one of them had to speak and odds were not good that it would be Oz, so…“I’m really sorry about what happened,” she offered, realizing even as she said it that it was weak and lame and not nearly enough.   
  
Oz just stared, and for all that there was no expression on his face, there was anger and bitterness in his eyes and… For what she was ashamed felt like the first time, Buffy got it – that Oz was as human as any of them and had feelings and wasn’t just Willow’s boyfriend or the guy who made Angel seem positively giddy with emotion. No, Oz was real… and he was hurt. “I mean it,” she said, reaching out only to see him pull away. Guess she deserved that.  
  
“I’m not the one who wanted this break-up.”  
  
“I know.” She struggled not to react to the tears she could almost see in his eyes. “Look… I… I know this is my fault. I should never have gotten you involved in my issues with Liam and…”   
  
She didn’t get to finish her sentence. “You’re right. But you’re still her best friend. Doesn’t seem fair.” Those last words were said with more venom than she’d ever heard from him. Not even when he’d caught Willow with Xander. There was nothing she could say to that, was there? Nothing except maybe throwing Willow under the bus that was the kiss… the kiss she knew probably would never have happened if Willow hadn’t been angry at Oz to begin with. Yeah, no matter what, Buffy figured this was her fault. And she couldn’t fix it. All she could do was watch as Oz got into his van and drove away.  
  
The anger in his voice echoed in her head and she felt as if she knew him, really knew him, at last. Not that it did much good. This sucked.  
  
With a heavy heart, she headed back into the school. There was still research to do. She just hoped Xander didn’t get on her case in front of Willow.  
  
  
  
  
Emerging from the tunnels, Angel made his way to the library. He’d thought of emailing his discovery to Willow – how exciting to have email now – but he didn’t know if she would check her account during research. He had, however, emailed Liam. (Actually, he’d emailed Liam a couple of times. Email was really neat.) It was too bad Liam had no tunnel access and couldn’t join them now.   
  
For a moment, he found himself almost relieved that Buffy wasn’t there. Her recent peril had only made things more complicated for him emotionally. Maybe he could just quickly impart his news to Willow and then…  
  
“Angel!” Buffy caroled as she walked into the library and Angel felt his heart sink. He would be leaving soon and it pained him to see how very unprepared she was for that eventuality. Still, telling her now would be a mistake; she’d almost certainly try to talk him out of it and react badly when he held firm on his decision. There was an apocalypse to prevent and there was no time for drama.  
  
The one good thing that had… Okay, Buffy admitted she was being melodramatic. Plenty of good things had happened today – the whole student body being alive, for one. Still, her chat with Oz had been pretty depressing and seeing the man she loved was a big help. Especially after talking to Willow, who – hey! – didn’t seem much the worse for wear after her talk with Giles. “It’s good to see you,” she offered, hoping to see his eyes light up the way they used to… the way she’d once taken for granted.  
  
She didn’t.   
  
“Hey, Angel,” Willow chimed in. She was sort of relieved to see him. Now he and Buffy could spend some time together and her friend would realize that he still loved her. She was sort of curious about where Buffy had been, especially since she didn’t have candy or soda or anything with her, but she could ask about that later. Right now she figured Buffy needed Angel-time.   
  
But instead of going over to Buffy, Angel walked up to _her_. “I was going to email you, but I wasn’t sure you would check your account. I found out some more about the Box of Gavrok.” Oh. Okay. This was important. Still, she sort of wished he’d directed this to Buffy.  
  
Saying nothing about the Buffy thing, since that would be awkward and embarrassing, she instead headed over to the computers, anticipating some site-checking. “What did you learn?”  
  
“There’s a courier on his way to Sunnydale soon. He doesn’t know the exact date or flight yet, but he’s bringing the Box... and he’s looking forward to an all-you-can-eat human buffet when the Ascension happens.”  
  
  
  
Emails from Angel. Six of them, in fact. What a newbie. Not to mention a bore. Though laughing at them had at least helped rid him of the residual anxiety from his nightmare, only one of Angel’s missives was the least bit worthwhile – the one that mentioned a courier. Of course, there wasn’t nearly enough information. Trust Angel to bungle the interrogation. There’d be no getting exact information from the oily criminal hosting the Box now. Oh well. No use crying over idiot vampires. They’d just have to keep their ears to the virtual ground. This guy was a braggart. He’d be sharing more details as the day approached. While patience wasn’t Liam’s favorite virtue, they had no other options at the moment. So waiting was the next move.  
  
He was becoming skilled at it, after all. Like with Willow. It was frustrating having to engage in this quadrille, but at the end, he’d be with the partner he wanted, so dancing through the figures would be well worth it.   
  
Figuring any further time spent on the boards was a waste, he closed the window. Nothing to see here. Why not do some other research? He decided to see what he could find out about the group with whom he was currently working. Buffy Summers, Xander Harris, Rupert Giles, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce… oh, and Daniel Osbourne. Surely there were facts about them he could learn online. What was the name of the wolf’s horrible band, again? Oh yes: Dingoes Ate My Baby. He would start there.  
  
  
  
“I wish this guy did more than just hint,” Willow grumbled, trying and failing to find anything more in the cryptic post or the printout of the chat Angel had brought with him. “Is it just me or does it seem like demons these days are acting way too much like B-movie villains? Like the plot really needs to be drawn out for dramatic effect. Sheesh.”  
  
Angel chuckled and Willow smiled at him. At least she was good at making with the funny, right? Turning back to the screen, she caught something… Maybe it wasn’t significant, but…  
  
Scrolling down, she noticed the courier-guy spent a lot of time chatting up a succubus who, if her avatar looked anything like her, was pretty hot for a chick with pale blue skin. She looked up the succubus, tracked her posts and… Darn! “Guys? I’m not sure this courier is such a reliable source.”  
  
Buffy seized on the excuse to join Willow and Angel at the computer. “What’s wrong?” She tried not to look at Angel, but she couldn’t help it.   
  
“It looks like this guy kind of… well, he has a history of exaggerating and stuff to impress this cute girl demon.” Willow was frowning and that didn’t bode well.  
  
“But he could be telling the truth, right? Kind of like the boy who cried wolf. He told the truth once.” Angel was looking at her. Finally. He didn’t seem overwhelmingly impressed with her insight, but Buffy wasn’t getting the scorn vibe either. Yay?  
  
Shaking his head, Angel turned his attention back to Willow. “I can’t believe I missed this.” And really, as somebody who’d recently stalked a pretty blonde all over town, shouldn’t he have picked up on a guy trying to impress a girl? He was losing his edge.   
  
Willow was quick to try and reassure him. “You’re new to the whole board thing. It’s not your fault that you didn’t know how to look up people’s – I mean demons’ – posting histories.” She patted his hand for good measure and her sincerity was almost comforting – more than he deserved, really. He was an idiot and he knew it.  
  
Suddenly, Willow’s eyes shot wide. “Oooh! Oooh! I think… Okay. I am seeing a pattern here. I mean, yeah, I’m pretty sure this guy isn’t as high up the food chain as he claims to be, but I’m seeing a pattern and checking the dates…” Her brow was furrowed in that way he’d begun to notice meant she was onto something. “This guy isn’t a big shot, but he knows big shots – or something. Because he was claiming to be part of that whole Sisterhood of Jhe thing,” she snorted, “and while that was pretty obviously a lie, he knew they were on their way to Sunnydale before we did. Which means he’s hearing stuff. If I can find out where he’s located…”  
  
“You could potentially determine who his sources are,” Giles interjected. It was obvious that he was impressed – at least if you could see past the whole ‘British reserve’ thing – and Willow beamed. He didn’t get excited about her computer stuff very often.  
  
“Yeah. I could.” She turned back to the keyboard as she kept talking. “All I have to hope is that he’s as dumb about everything else as he is about picking up girls and it shouldn’t take… Got it!” She grinned. “Cleveland!”  
  
Okay, Buffy had to admit she was impressed. “That was fast.”  
  
Willow made a dismissive gesture. “Pfft. The guy’s a total amateur. He doesn’t know the first thing about keeping himself anonymous online.”  
  
Suddenly, Willow logged off. “That’s as long as I like to stay on there. I kinda worry that they’ll pick up on a human looking at stuff. There didn’t seem to be any magic protecting _this_ guy or anything, but you can’t be too careful. Kinda glad Angel was right here, though.”  
  
“They can tell?” Xander chimed in at last.  
  
“Oh yeah. Miss… This techno-pagan warned me about that.” Buffy noticed the way everyone’s faces fell. Not like they didn’t all know who Willow meant. She wished she could comfort Angel. It wasn’t really his fault, after all. He wasn’t the one who’d killed Jenny Calendar; that had been Angelus’s crime. Still, she felt sad at the memory of Miss Calendar, mostly because Giles had been in love with her. He was still in pain.   
  
Angel closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the guilt he felt about Jenny Calendar. Just because his soul hadn’t been party to the crime, it didn’t mean it couldn’t be at least partially laid to his account. Even after his reprieve on Christmas Day, the anguish and the sense of responsibility remained. It was strange – for the first time he wondered if he should talk to Willow about this. She and the teacher had been so close but she was also _his_ friend. When this was all over… Just because he was leaving, that didn’t mean he had to give up all contact with Willow. Phones, email… There were ways.   
  
Opening his eyes again, he thought about something. “You’re very skilled with magic,” he said to Willow. “I am pretty sure the demons would pick up on that. I doubt you’d have any trouble on the boards.” She coloured at his praise and he was glad he’d offered it. What bothered him was the fact that Xander and Giles looked so dubious.   
  
“Yes, well, better safe than sorry,” Giles said, looking dry and uncomfortable. Suddenly Angel got it. In the argot of the Bronze set: jealous much? Now wasn’t the time. He did, however, shoot a look at Xander. Wonder of wonders – the boy kept his mouth shut.  
  
“Is there any way to figure out who this guy is getting his material from?” Buffy asked, feeling a chill in the room that she didn’t understand.  
  
“Sure. All I need to do is find out where the action is in Cleveland.” Willow sounded a lot less excited than she had been a moment ago. “I’m guessing this guy’s sources don’t go online, though, seeing as how he seems pretty confident on the boards, so it’s gonna be a little harder to figure out who they are.”  
  
“I’ll reach out to my contacts,” Angel offered. “One of them’s gotta know who’s holding the power in Cleveland.”  
  
  
  
It might have been a cliché, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true: Knowledge was power. Liam felt a great sense of security now that he knew more about the players in the game. Buffy’s mother ran a local art gallery. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce owed his position to sheer nepotism. Xander Harris’s family was, to put it mildly, undistinguished, or to put it more honestly, they were thoroughgoing louts. Osbourne’s band hadn’t garnered a single positive review in all the times they’d played. Oh but searching through the wilds of cyberspace for details about Rupert Giles had yielded the most intriguing information: the woman whose name had appeared in that file about the curse? She’d been found dead in Giles’s bed. No charges had ever been filed against him, but one site dedicated to raising a fuss about deaths long since swept under the official carpet – Sunnydale Exposed – still considered him a person of interest. They’d be the only ones, except… he’d also found some rumblings on a different occult-oriented site linking the man to a Chaos Mage named Ethan Rayne. Would wonders never cease? It might do Liam well not to underestimate the Watcher.  
  
What did this say about his own world’s version of the tweedy librarian? Did he have other motives for not helping Liam? What if he’d been a double agent? If he kept company with a Chaos Mage, the possibility certainly existed. If only Liam had known these things in the world where he came from.  
  
One more horrible possibility occurred to him.  
  
Was Rupert Giles the one who had betrayed Darla to the Master?  
  
  
  
Up in the stacks, looking for Everett’s Guide, Willow jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Whirling around, she was about to cry out when he put his hand over her mouth. “We need to talk.”  
  
Oh God. She’d actually forgotten that Liam had told him about what had happened. How had she forgotten that? “I guess you want to talk about me and Liam,” she said softly. He nodded. “Look. It was just a silly, weird, fluke-y sort of thing, okay? I promise it’s not going to happen again.”  
  
“What’s not going to happen again?”  
  
Damn it. Harris would take this moment to intrude. Angel gave a surreptitious look of support to Willow and immediately piped up. “She’s not going to let me fly blind in the chat rooms anymore. I won’t be making any more mistakes with sources.” The story might be lame, but in offering the boy the chance to look down at his nose him, Angel figured it would work. The sniggering look on Xander’s face proved him right.   
  
“Yeah, well, a guy your age? You might want to stick to horses and buggies instead of trying the information super highway.”   
  
Angel couldn’t stop himself from a sharp retort. “Why are you up here? Did you leave one of your girlie magazines in a demon guide?” Oh. The colour in Xander’s cheeks told Angel that must have actually happened once. He fought the urge to visibly gloat at his unexpected acumen.  
  
“No,” he said, way too emphatically before turning to Willow, “Giles says there’s no real need for the Everett’s right now and he gave us all the night off. Thought you might want to join me for a little Bronzing.”  
  
Angel could tell Willow was about to say yes and a part of him wanted to let her have her fun, but… they needed to talk. “Willow promised to give me those pointers tonight.”  
  
She wasn’t getting out of this, was she? “Yeah, Xan. Sorry. But Angel really needs my help. Maybe tomorrow, okay?” Xander looked crestfallen, but he’d get over it. In the meantime… she might as well do some getting over of her own… Getting that talk with Angel over with. “Have fun,” she offered brightly as she followed Angel downstairs. She gathered her belongings and let him lead her towards the door. Sunset had just ended.  
  
Waiting until they were safely out of earshot, Willow decided to head Angel off at the pass. “Look, I get that you’re worried and I understand. I totally do. But Liam and I talked about it and it’s never going to happen again. We both know it was stupid and our friendship is way too important. I promise you it’s all over. A silly mistake that will never be made ever again.”  
  
What was Angel supposed to say? He knew Liam’s feelings ran far deeper, but… The last thing he wanted to do was cause Liam any further humiliation. Unrequited love had to be astoundingly painful and his twin had already suffered so much. Let him keep what was left of his dignity. Besides, with Willow so clearly not in possession of the same kind of feelings as Liam and with both of them having assured him in their own way that they would be prudent from now on, there was no danger. “Liam said the same thing,” he said, somewhat fallaciously. “I’m glad you’re both being sensible.”   
  
He was about to say something else, something innocuous to change the subject, when Willow blurted out, “Giles knows too. I got a lecture right before you showed up.”  
  
Now he felt guilty for confronting her today. He actually _had_ intended to take her back to his house and ask for some more computer help, but now? Now it seemed selfish. Looking at her, it was clear she was stressed. So instead he changed course and led her towards a different street. “Why don’t I just take you home?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	32. Chapter Thirty-One

Feral (Chapter Thirty-One)  
  
  
  
Willow felt a lot wearier than she should this early in the evening, but she tried to keep up a perky façade as Angel walked her to the door of her house. She was sort of hoping he’d want to come in and hang out with Liam for awhile. There was a confrontation she needed to have that she was kind of hoping to keep putting off.   
  
“Good night.”   
  
Well, guess that meant her hopes were pretty much dashed. Still, she gave it one last try. “You sure you don’t want to come in? I have blood.” She even smiled more broadly for good measure.  
  
Willow’s smile was inviting, but Angel wasn’t going to force his company on her, however cheerfully she seemed willing to endure the prospect. She needed some space after everything she’d been through today. That lecture from Giles, followed by the one from him. Plus there had been the near miss with the shooting spree. How did she feel about that? He hadn’t even asked what had happened, taking it for granted that Buffy would save the day. Who had the would-be killer even been? Had it been a friend of Willow’s? This was what came of being so solitary for so long – he’d lost all his social graces.   
  
It was too late to make up for his bumptiousness tonight. “No thanks. I should head home and see about getting in touch with my contacts about who the big bosses are in Cleveland.”  
  
That made sense to Willow and she understood that it was a lot more important than running interference for her, still, a selfish part of her wished that Angel wanted to stay. Nothing to be done about it but deal with it though. “Okay. Good luck.” He walked back down the path and she waved when he turned around briefly; then she opened her door and entered the house.  
  
“Willow.” Oh golly. Liam was right there in the living room.  
  
“Hi.” She was obviously nervous and Liam wondered why. Maybe she felt guilty for worrying him.   
  
He had to admit he had expected a phone call or an email about the potential bloodbath at the high school. However, he had kept the local TV station on all day. As oblivious as they were, he figured that much daytime carnage would have rated a mention, and since he’d hear nothing… “I take it you guys averted the massacre.”   
  
Her cheeks pinked as she apologized. “I probably should have called or something, huh? It was the lunch lady, by the way. Xander caught her trying to put rat poison in with the mystery meat. But there was also Jonathan. Well, not really, except we thought he was going to be the killer, only it turned out he was just going to kill _himself_. Still, it’s good Buffy stopped him.”  
  
The name meant nothing to Liam, though that wasn’t surprising. He had known only a few of the high school students before his capture: Oz, a boy named Larry, a girl named Nancy. He had some vague memories of Cordelia and a blonde named… Melody? Soubrette? Harmony? Some sort of musical name anyway. She’d tried – rather repulsively – to flirt with him once at the Bronze in the days before it had turned into the headquarters of the Master and his coterie. Funny that he remembered that now. Time had a way of dredging small things from the chaos of memory.  
  
Not just small things.  
  
The smell of Ted’s cookies baking.   
  
The look on Darla’s face as the last of eternity was drained from her. In that moment he had tried so hard to love her the way she loved him… There was the strangest, most arsenic-bitter irony in the fact that he gave that very love so easily to Willow now.  
  
Willow, who was staring at him. He’d been lost inside himself for too long a moment, hadn’t he? “Sorry. I was just thinking about the school, what happened to it.” That wasn’t the strictest truth, but it was close enough not to be a lie.   
  
Oh God. The look on Liam’s face. Willow felt incredibly guilty right now. But you know, she’d been putting this discussion off for way too long. Those boundary issues needed to be addressed. After all, it wasn’t like there was ever going to be a day when Liam didn’t have flashbacks or bad memories. “There’s something I kind of need to talk to you about, okay?”  
  
He seemed confused but he went and sat down on the couch. Good. Might as well be comfortable about this. She followed his lead and sat in a chair. “I…” Breathing in, she tried to figure out the best way to say this. Of course, while she was thinking, her tongue just stumbled along. “I get that you needed a knife and all, but… You know, the whole ‘going into my room and rooting through my stuff’ thing? That’s really not okay.” Well, not the most diplomatic way to say it, but at least it was said.   
  
Why was he looking at her like he had no idea what she was talking about?  
  
For a split second, Liam was irritated with Willow, but he quickly reined in his emotions. It was too soon for her to be comfortable with belonging to him; he understood that. So he quickly adopted a confused expression and, with alacrity even he himself found impressive, readied an explanation for his possession of the knife, one which, luckily, he could even back up with some physical evidence. “What do you mean?”  
  
But first, naturally, he had to contend with her exasperation. “The knife. You know. The one you took from my room to kill the demon.”  
  
“I found the knife in the dining room,” he countered. “It was right next to the holy water on the sideboard.”  
  
That took the wind out of Willow’s sails. She was sure she remembered putting the knife back in her room the way she always did – just in case. A generic-looking bottle of water was one thing, but explaining a dagger to her parents was another. But what if she hadn’t? Had she gotten sloppy? Had she really left the knife…? Liam sure looked like he was telling the truth. He seemed really confused and a little hurt by her rebuke. And it wasn’t like he was in the habit of violating her boundaries – he totally got the ‘no means no’ thing. Maybe she shouldn’t have assumed the worst. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I usually put it back in… But I should have asked you about it instead of assuming you went through my stuff.”  
  
“It’s okay.” He smiled at her and she let out a sigh of relief.   
  
Assessing her mood, Liam decided he’d be well-served by a change of subject to something far less personal. Despite having sensed the presence of his counterpart, he asked, “Did Angel email you about what he learned on the message boards today?”  
  
  
  
Despite having gotten out of research early, tonight really sucked. Buffy had gone to the ladies room only to find that, by the time she returned to the library, Angel was gone. Xander said he had gone to do some computer thing with Willow.   
  
While Buffy realized she was veering dangerously close to Obsession-ville, she couldn’t help but add this to the long list of things she blamed on Liam. Because hey – think about it. Had Angel ever even looked at a computer before Liam showed up with his whole ‘vampire-computer-geek’ shtick? Learned from _Ted_ of all… robots.   
  
The same went for their relationship. She and Angel had been _fine_ until Liam showed up. Sure, they’d had their problems, but nothing like now. Nothing like what had been happening to them since stupid Liam had just ‘poofed’ right into their lives. Okay, he hadn’t actually interfered, but…   
  
God, even she thought she seemed like a paranoid nutcase right now.   
  
Liam had pretty much saved her life, hadn’t he? And yeah, granted, his making the smoochies with Willow was a very bad thing, but if that made him evil, she would have to stake Xander too. Looking up at the sky, she took a deep breath. It was time to let go, wasn’t it?   
  
Gosh was she being mature. She deserved some major Bronzing time for that, didn’t she? So, it was decided. She was going home, putting on that cute new top she’d bought, and dancing the night – and her doubts and paranoia – away.  
  
  
  
“Thanks. Let me know when you have something.” Angel was frustrated when he hung up the phone. He’d only been able to raise two of his contacts by phone and neither one of them knew a damn thing about Cleveland. No wonder some of the new Big Bads were using it as a base of operations – the old guard just snickered when you said the name, acting as if London, Berlin, and New York were the only games in town… well, along with Sunnydale – though they seemed almost grudging about it, Hellmouth notwithstanding.   
  
What had become of Whistler? Right now would be a great time for him to appear. Or maybe it just seemed like that. Maybe he was as guilty as the old-fashioned types with whom he was currently disgusted of relying on what used to work. The world was changing – changing fast. Shouldn’t the way The Judge had been defeated have told him that the old rules weren’t how the game had to be played anymore?  
  
He went back to his couch and sat down. A moment later, he grimaced. You know, this thing wasn’t at all comfortable. Yes, he’d chosen it for looks back when he’d been soulless, but hadn’t that been more than a little ridiculous considering his limited number of visitors? For a moment, he pondered ordering something new online, but… What was the point? He would be gone soon.  
  
All alone again.  
  
His laptop was on the table and he powered it up, then clicked on his drawing program. He began to look at the sketches he’d created. Ten so far. And not one of them was of Buffy. No, he’d sketched the outside of the mansion, he’d sketched Spike and Drusilla (for reasons he could scarcely fathom), he’d sketched Liam, and he’d sketched Willow. In fact, he’d made five sketches of her.   
  
That probably made sense, he supposed. His friendships were what he’d miss most and while sketching Liam felt strange and narcissistic, sketching Willow was about imprinting her on his memory. It wasn’t as if he could be sure she’d stay in touch with him, after all. Her loyalty to Buffy might get in the way. He well knew how badly his love was going to take his ‘abandonment’.   
  
He enlarged the first sketch he’d done. Willow looked so young, so impossibly young, and he realized he had drawn her the way he’d seen her when he’d first come to town; he hadn’t even thought about her then, but somehow she’d snuck into the recesses of his memory. Her bright, eager smile seemed so real, even in the black and white of virtual pencil and paper. What would have happened, he wondered, if they’d been friends from the beginning?  
  
It would have been a disaster, he realized. His love for Buffy would have cost him his soul regardless and being closer to Willow would only have put her in greater danger once his demon had seized control. Angelus’s interest in her had been enough to imperil her as it was. Had she meant something to his soul, even in a platonic way… She’d have been more than a fancy, more than a potential conquest Angelus put off to the side to focus on Acathla, and those fish wouldn’t have been the only gifts he left for her.   
  
Clicking on the next sketch, then the next… He was already mourning for friendship lost and he hadn’t even left town yet. This brooding thing was becoming a real problem. Was there some sort of therapy for this?   
  
Running his hand through his hair, he got up to get himself some blood. Then he was going to look at cheerful things online, get himself out of this funk.  
  
Okay, he was going to look at porn.   
  
  
  
Buffy walked into Angel’s house, expecting him to be in the living room with Willow. Yes, she had fully intended to just go to the Bronze – and hey, she was still going there – but there was no law against stopping by your boyfriend’s house first, was there? Especially when you were wearing a cute new top, your slinkiest little skirt, looked really hot, and wanted to make sure your boyfriend still _was_ your boyfriend.  
  
He wasn’t there. Neither was Willow. Where were they? Was he walking her home or something?   
  
That had to be it. Angel was the chivalrous type and no way would he let Willow walk home alone after dark, even when it was too early for most demons to be out yet. Maybe she should head in that direction herself. She could ‘accidentally’ run into them and claim to be on her way to invite Willow to join her in a night of mindless teenage frolic. Yeah. That was a great idea, actually. Because hey, having Willow come along with her would be much more fun, plus, meeting up with Angel that way would be a whole lot better than her meeting them here would have been.  
  
Just as she was about to leave, though, she caught sight of Angel’s laptop sitting on the table and it was on. That was kind of careless, wasn’t it? Willow always warned her about stuff like that. But then she got curious. What had he and Willow been looking at? She stepped over to the coffee table and sat on the sofa. A brief pang of conscience hit her, but she sloughed it off. Hey, this was so _not_ snooping. The laptop was in plain view.  
  
Plain view. Maybe they’d been right about her being suited for a career in law enforcement.  
  
She turned the screen towards herself and saw…  
  
Oh God. It was a sketch. A really beautiful sketch of a really beautiful girl. A really beautiful sketch of a really beautiful girl who wasn’t Buffy.  
  
It was a really beautiful sketch of a really beautiful girl who was Willow.  
  
Her legs, she could barely feel her legs. Still, they got her up and halfway to the door when a voice stopped her.  
  
“Buffy?” Angel was surprised to see her. What was she doing here? “Did something happen?” He headed for his weapons chest automatically when he noticed she wasn’t exactly dressed for slaying… in fact, it was hard to describe her as being dressed at all. In his day, underwear covered more than that. Dammit. Did she realize how cruel it was to come to him looking like that? Taunting him with what they’d shared once and could never have again?  
  
“I was just… Giles gave me the night off and I thought I’d see if… if Willow wanted to Bronze it with me tonight, that’s all.”  
  
The Bronze. Angel should have known. She’d be flashing her charms to every teenage boy in Sunnydale tonight. He loved her, but sometimes he had to wonder why.   
  
“Willow’s not here,” he said sharply. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure she planned to stay in and get some rest tonight.”  
  
“Oh.” She was pouting now. It shouldn’t work on him the way it did, but it did anyway. He caught her cheating a glance at his laptop and he noticed a slight indentation in the couch that showed she’d just been sitting there.  
  
“Guess you saw my sketches,” he said. “Willow found me a great drawing program. Someday even pencils will be obsolete thanks to computers.” Seemed pretty innocuous to him, but why did Buffy look so strange? Was this an Angelus thing? Did she think only his demon had an artistic side?   
  
“Yeah. You’re… that drawing of Willow is really… pretty.” Buffy longed to say more, to ask him if he really saw Willow as being so beautiful, but she didn’t want to come off as being jealous… even though she was. Oh God. She was jealous of her best friend. But hey, with Liam being interested in Willow, was it so farfetched to worry that Angel was too?  
  
Her eyes stayed locked on Angel’s face, looking for a reaction. “I thought a portrait might make a nice graduation present,” he said mildly, not a single trace of inappropriate interest. Oh. Gosh. Maybe it was time to crown herself the Village Idiot. Because that made sense – and it explained why the picture seemed sort of… okay, not idealized, because Buffy thought Willow was very pretty, it was just… Whatever. She just wanted to focus on the fact that there was a really good explanation for the Willow-sketching and then not think about it ever again. It hurt so much that she’d been jealous at all, even if it was only for a really short time.  
  
“I think she’ll really like it.” Her smile was almost desperate and Angel understood what was going on in her head even less than before. No point in asking, however. Honesty in the face of direct questions about her feelings wasn’t exactly Buffy’s strong suit, at least not when he was the inquisitor. Anyway, it didn’t look like he was going to have the opportunity anyway. “Well, I better be going. Mom wants me home at what she calls ‘a decent hour’ and I want to get some dancing in.” A second later, she was pressed up against him, braless breasts he could feel through the thin material of her skimpy top, kissing his cheek before bouncing toward the door. Just as she left, she turned back and said, “I love you.”  
  
He wasn’t going to reply, but some instinct told him that silence would do more harm than good. “Me too,” he said, and her smile was sun-bright before she turned again and was gone.  
  
What the hell had just happened here?   
  
  
  
Liam sat beside Willow on the couch. They’d done some research, all of it fruitless, and now here they were, watching television: an extremely bad vampire film – as if there were any _good_ ones. “You know, if all vampires were this slow and long-winded, Buffy wouldn’t even have to stay in shape,” Willow opined, and Liam had to agree. All the speechifying by these creatures was tiresome. Also, as incompetent as they were…  
  
“Even Wesley could defeat them,” he added, pleased by Willow’s giggle in response.  
  
“Yeah, except he’d probably give them a really long speech about it too.”  
  
Liam pursed his lips, furrowed his brow, straightened his posture absurdly, and, in his best ‘pompous twit’ British accent, he intoned, “The Council says…”  
  
Willow dissolved into laughter. Liam’s Wesley was… hilarious. He was really funny. It sort of surprised her.   
  
He kept going. “Miss Rosenberg. I hardly think that merriment is an appropriate response. Now we must be sure to stake these vampires exactly according to Council guidelines. I shall look at these diagrams and then we need to discuss the matter for an hour and a half, by which time…”  
  
That laughter was a beautiful thing. Willow’s face was even lovelier than ever, lit up by her smile. He hadn’t shared a joke with anyone since Ted and even then, it hadn’t been as magical as this.   
  
Her giggles began to die down and their eyes locked. It was permission; Liam knew it was. Leaning in, he heard her say “no” softly, but she didn’t move… so he kissed her.  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two

Feral (Chapter Thirty-Two)  
  
  
  
Willow was in his arms and Liam was kissing her. He was being gentle, banishing the echoes of his hideous nightmare, but he couldn’t hide the passion he felt for her. He pulled her closer and his hands moved over her back.  
  
She wasn’t pushing him away. Admittedly, she had said no when he was about to kiss her, but she wasn’t objecting now. No, she was warm and pliant and willing as he coaxed her to open her mouth to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss.  
  
What were they doing? More importantly, what was _she_ doing? Because Willow was distinctly aware that this was a very bad idea and yet… Yeah, it was happening again. This time, in fact, it was going further. Liam was caressing her and… Eep! Hands! Hands in new places. Butt-and-boob-type places. Okay, this was the part where she was supposed to very emphatically put a stop to things.  
  
There was one problem, though: It felt… really good. Sort of right, even – in a bad, wrong kind of way. You know, she might have some kind of neurotic compulsion, because it seemed like she was way too fond of illicit smoochies. Though, in her defense, she was a teenage girl and she had read all about the rush of hormones she was experiencing, so this was totally normal and anyway, even a non-teenage woman would have to be pretty impressed with Liam’s skill. Still, she knew this was the wrong kind of right-feeling-wrong and it absolutely had to stop. Especially now when she thought about how he’d honed his skills for the past few years. She felt really awful about that.  
  
Lucky for her, fate lent a hand in the ‘putting a stop to this’ department. The phone rang.  
  
Liam wanted to disembowel whoever was calling right now. The mood was broken and Willow was no longer in his arms. Instead, she was at the hall table, answering the telephone.   
  
“Angel? Hi.”  
  
That bastard would spoil Liam’s night – damn him to a return trip to Hell. His whole body was still humming with lust and need. He’d been _this_ close to telling Willow the truth about the curse and taking her for the first time. Whatever Angel’s reason for calling, it would have to be the most dire emergency to even be close to saving his unlife next time Liam saw him.  
  
Angel was incredibly grateful that Willow was home and not out with her friends. “I just heard from one of my contacts,” he said, cutting to the chase. “The Box? It left for Sunnydale today. The Mayor is supposed to be getting it tonight.”  
  
There was silence at the other end of the phone and for a moment Angel wondered if Willow had heard him, but then… “This is sort of bad, isn’t it? I mean, we haven’t had any time to prepare. Or make a plan. A plan would have been good.”  
  
She was right. A plan would have been great. But in the absence of time… “Can you call Giles and Wesley? Get them to meet me at the library?”  
  
“Sure. But what…?”  
  
He interrupted her. “I’m gonna go find Buffy.”  
  
“Okay. We’ll meet you guys at the library then.” She hung up before he had the chance to object. Maybe he was being overprotective, but he had hoped to somehow induce her to stay out of this. Something inside him told him they’d be doing battle with Faith. She was a loose cannon – and a dangerous one at that.  
  
He knew better than to think he could talk Willow into staying on the sidelines, though. She’d been an eager volunteer from the very beginning. “Be careful,” he said to the dial tone.  
  
Time to head out and locate Buffy.  
  
  
  
The necessary phone calls had been made – Wesley was annoying and humphy about everything and Willow hung up on him right in the middle of an ‘are we sure we should trust this vampire?’ rant – and now Willow was upstairs in her room, gathering weapons and, thanks to something she thought might be sort of like Buffy’s ‘spidey senses’, some magic supplies. Nothing in her trunk looked at all disturbed and it seemed like Liam really had been telling the truth and she’d left that darn dagger in the dining room. Gosh did she feel awful, though she guessed she’d sort of made it up to him… Oh god. No thinking about smoochies.  
  
A sense that she wasn’t alone made her turn around. “Liam.” With a surprising feeling of surprise, she almost dropped the stake she was holding. Boy was that silly because she’d sensed someone was there and who else would it have been? “I’m just getting some stuff for us. You know, just in case and all. You still have the dagger, right?”  
  
He nodded, oddly cheered by her nervousness about him being in her bedroom. Obviously, she was still thinking about what had just happened – and what had _almost_ happened – between them. For a moment, he wanted to suggest she not come, but he knew better. She tended to get her back up about being told to stay safe and since someone else would surely keep her out of the fray, they, not he, could happily bear the brunt of her wrath. “What are you bringing?”  
  
She shrugged. “Kinda the usual. Some stakes, an axe, oh – and some magic stuff just in case.” A chill went up his spine. He knew she’d been practicing some small things, like floating pencils, but he did not approve of the idea of her attempting to take her skills into battle, even if she had once channeled enough power to restore Angel’s soul. Again, however, he stifled the urge to speak. They had made so much progress tonight. He was not going to undo it unless absolutely necessary.  
  
“Good,” he offered. “We better go. Everyone should be at the library soon.”  
  
  
  
The Bronze. Angel grew less and less fond of this place as time went on. But this was where he would find Buffy, so here he was. And there _she_ was. On the dance floor. With Xander Harris. He had a flashback to that day years ago when she’d danced provocatively with that very boy. Now she wasn’t so provocative, and while he was still jealous, it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t jealous of Xander as much as he was jealous of Buffy. Jealous of the freedom she had – the freedom to be happy. It must be glorious to be her, to know that nothing you did could jeopardize who you were.   
  
More than ever he knew it was time to leave Sunnydale and his hopeless love behind.  
  
But first…   
  
One minute Buffy was lost in the music, enjoying the feeling of just letting her body move to the rhythm and the way admiring eyes gazed at her, and the next… “Angel!” she cried out as he turned her around to face him. This was good, right? Him joining her here? But he had never, _ever_ joined her on the dance floor before. She was having a wiggins.  
  
“It’s an emergency,” he said, deflating her immediately. “The Box is on its way here.”  
  
And that wiggins had been correct.  
  
She switched to Slayer mode with an ease that used to scare her. “You’re sure?”  
  
“I trust my contact.”  
  
Xander was about to say something, but Buffy shushed him with a look. Now was not the time for Testosterone Wars. “Then we should head out. Oh, and call Giles.”  
  
“Willow’s already on it.” Angel didn’t consider that a particularly troubling piece of information, but the look on Buffy’s face… And now Buffy’s behavior earlier made sense, in a ridiculous and senseless way. She was jealous of Willow. Great. More nonsense to deal with. Well, it could wait. There were far more important things on the communal plate now than Buffy’s ludicrous fancies. “She and Liam and the others are supposed to meet us at the library.”  
  
“Guess that means our night off is officially canceled,” Xander snarked as needlessly as ever.   
  
Angel contented himself with an eye roll. Again, teenage foolishness was far too trivial to worry about right now. How troubling – or telling – was it that he had just lumped Xander and Buffy together in his head? “Let’s go,” he said, shelving any thoughts of anything but defeating the Mayor until a later date.  
  
No arguments from either Buffy or Xander, so Angel led them towards the door, much to the disappointment of the boys – and girls – who’d been ogling Buffy. They had no idea who she was, did they? He wondered what they’d think if they knew that the reason most of them were likely still alive was because of the half-naked girl currently on her way out of the club.   
  
As much as having to cut short a night off sucked, Buffy was almost glad that this Box thing was happening now. They could wrap up things with the Mayor and then return to their regularly-scheduled lives – or she could, anyway. She and Angel could talk and hopefully get their relationship back on track. More than anything, she wanted things to go back to… Okay, they’d never go back to the way things were before he lost his soul. But they could still make this work somehow. Their love was powerful and eternal. It was. And Buffy was prepared to do whatever it took to fight for it. “Did your contact give you the whole ‘exact time’ info or are we pretty much winging it?”  
  
“’Tonight’ was as close to an exact time as he could find,” Angel said.  
  
Just as Xander was about to make some sort of wisecrack to pick a fight with Angel, Buffy caught sight of Oz’s van. Mostly because it was making a U-turn and heading right towards them. That was sort of a surprise considering she'd pretty much expected Oz to never want to speak to her, or any of them, again. Maybe he was going to try and run them over.  
  
Or not. “Hey,” he called out as he pulled to a stop, “I was looking for you.” Surprise again. It was pretty obvious he was talking to her and not to Angel or Xander so she walked up to the driver’s side of the van. “I saw something.”  
  
“Something?”  
  
“Faith. I saw her getting out of a limo at City Hall. Carrying a box. I’m no expert, but this didn’t look like your run of the mill UPS parcel.”  
  
Angel had joined Buffy by the van, along with Harris. “The Box of Gavrok.” He shook his head, not at all pleased. “This means we’re too late.”  
  
Putting her hand on his arm, Buffy offered, “Maybe not. There’s probably some ritual involved, which we could still stop. We better hurry to the library, though.”   
  
Oz obviously agreed, and could Buffy just say how impressed she was with his willingness to put his own feelings aside for the greater good? “Get in.” With that, Angel nodded to Xander and they went to the other side of the van, followed by Buffy. He opened the back door for himself and Xander while Buffy climbed into the passenger seat.  
  
The moment both doors slammed closed, Oz stepped on the gas and sped off to the high school.  
  
  
  
It was morning and school attendance was mandatory, so here she was, but Willow had scarcely been able to sleep. A night of trying not to seem guilty every time she and Liam glanced at each other, looking up plans for City Hall, drawing diagrams, and dealing with Wesley could do that to a girl. Guess meditation was gonna have to suffice for grounding herself to perform the Breath of the Atropyx tonight. Those spidey senses about the magic had been right, except for the timing, hadn’t they? Oh God. It almost would have been easier to do this last night. She wasn’t nearly as tired.  
  
Liam had been cooperative though. No smoochies, no hands, not even a mention of the naughty touching they’d been doing before the phone call from Angel. Willow’s brain, however, was nowhere near as supportive. But could you blame her? Yeah, okay, she and Oz had broken up, but seeing him last night had made her feel sleazy and skanky all the same.  
  
Then there was the magic. Even though she’d played it off all cool and confident in front of everyone, she was terrified. Sure, she’d been floating a lot of pencils lately, and last night she’d done that locator spell to determine exactly where the Box was being kept, but she hadn’t done anything really intense since that whole Sisterhood of Jhe thing and even then it wasn’t like she’d managed to stop the big, scary demon from emerging. Okay, yes, she’d been helpful, but…   
  
The truth was she had no idea what she was doing. She was completely winging it. Let’s face it, unlike Amy, she had no hereditary power. For all she knew, her two previous forays into big-time magical success had been flukes. After all, look what happened when she got tricked into helping Anya. Not only did the spell fail, but major badness happened. Of course, Liam’s life had been saved… but that was totally an accident and had nothing to do with Willow’s powers. What if she not only managed to not destroy the Box, but managed to give the Mayor a bigger advantage at the same time?  
  
Breathe, she told herself, just breathe. She didn’t have a choice. No one else could do the spell, so… It would work, because it _had_ to work.  
  
Oh goody. Here was Buffy. One of the people she was afraid of letting down. “Hi,” she said in as cheerful a voice as she could muster.   
  
“Hey.” Buffy was glad to see Willow. She was the one person she could confide in. Especially now that, after a good night’s sleep, she realized that being jealous over a couple of sketches was absolutely ridiculous. “I have something to… I mean it’s something I _want_ to tell you but you have to _promise_ you won’t tell anyone. Especially not Giles. Or my Mom!” Oh God. She just realized what conclusions Willow might draw from those two names. “And no, this has nothing to do with that police car thing about which I intend to never, ever think again.”  
  
Now Willow looked both curious and nervous, so Buffy hastened to spill it. “I got accepted to Northwestern.”  
  
Bouncing. Now there was bouncing, “Buffy that’s awesome,” but then Willow’s face fell. “How come you want me to keep this a secret?”  
  
Here came the part where she had to try and explain. “Because I can’t go.”  
  
Willow was about to ask why, but then she got it. “The Slayer thing.” She reached out and pulled Buffy into a hug. “I’m sorry.” And she was. Because _her_ biggest problem was choosing between the thirty or so universities which had begged her to attend. The narrowing-down process had still left her with Oxford, Yale, M.I.T., and Harvard… oh, and Stanford if she wanted to stay in California. The whole world was pretty much open before her. But Buffy’s world? It was a whole lot smaller. How could Willow not feel sympathy for her best friend? Funny how she used to envy Buffy – being the Chosen One and all. Turned out being Chosen came with a whole lot of fine print that made the super powers a lot less super. “UC Sunnydale isn’t so bad, you know. They actually have a pretty decent rating for a public university.” And you know, that had sounded so much less like ‘damning with faint praise’ in her head.   
  
Buffy smiled at Willow’s attempts to console her. No, she wasn’t going to tell her the truth: that she didn’t _want_ to go anywhere else; that it wasn’t just about being the Slayer, but about being in love with Angel. Instead, she let Willow babble on about UC Sunnydale and ‘designing your own curriculum’ and less of a ‘sports-dominated culture’ than other schools as they headed to first period.   
  
  
  
Time was passing way too quickly today. Willow was positive it had been first period only ten minutes ago and yet… here they were in the library and it was just about to get dark. “Thanks for the urn,” she said, still completely unsure how to have a simple conversation with Oz.  
  
He nodded without saying anything, so she guessed he felt just as awkward, not that she blamed him. “I guess Xander will be here with the ingredients soon and then you guys can get to work on the potion for when we get back,” she continued. “Oh! Here’s the instructions.” She thrust a sheaf of papers at him, wondering if she should have included the ‘Don’t Fight’ she had wanted to add as number two (and six) on the list. Hopefully it sort of went without saying. There should be more, shouldn’t there? More that she could say? Something that didn’t sound cheesy or patronizing to let him know that she really appreciated the way he was putting aside the fact that they’d just broken up and was here helping them try to save the world?   
  
But if there was, she couldn’t think of it, so she just smiled at him and went over to where Giles and Wesley were bickering over who got to drive. “I am the one who acquired the vehicle,” Wesley said sharply, dangling the keys for good measure. Was he twelve?   
  
Willow shook her head sadly as she watched Giles concede defeat with a rueful and irritated, “Very well then.”  
  
Oh shoot! She needed to call Liam. Because the plan called for them to leave before he could get here. She hurried over to the phone and dialed. Then hung up and dialed again. No forgetting the signal. “Liam?”  
  
It wasn’t a surprise to Liam when the phone rang. He’d been expecting Willow’s call. “I’ll head for the school the minute the sun goes down,” he said without even saying hello. He was sure she wasn’t alone and he knew she’d want to keep the conversation short. Selfish as he could be sometimes, he was well aware that thinking about what the two of them shared would not help her with the calm sense of focus she needed to perform the spell to render the Box vulnerable so the Slayer could steal it.  
  
What _was_ a surprise, and an unwelcome and unsettling one, was her response. “You’re not gonna be coming with us. We’re leaving the minute the sun sets. You can just wait at my house if you want.”   
  
Angel could hear Willow on the phone and he knew full well how displeased Liam must be at what he was hearing. His tunnel access had to be something Liam envied greatly right now, and Angel understood. Hopeless as it was, Liam’s love for Willow would make him protective. Angel felt the same about Buffy, despite the fact that she was a Slayer. He tapped Willow on the shoulder and gestured for her to hand him the phone. “I’ll be there,” he said, not saying more for fear that they’d be overheard, but he knew Liam could hear from his tone that what he meant was that Willow would not be alone and unprotected.  
  
Liam, naturally, was more plainspoken. “If anything happens to her…”  
  
Angel cut him off. “It won’t.”  
  
“We need to be leaving now,” came Wesley’s attempt at a command. So with a short ‘goodbye’, Angel hung up the phone.  
  
“Are you ready?” he asked Willow.  
  
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She grinned at him and they joined the others. Damn it. Buffy had that look on her face again – and Angel also felt a chill go up his spine. What did that mean? Oh hell. Willow wasn’t the only one who needed to get calm and focused. Get a grip, Angel. There was a job to be done. He could worry about premonitions and jealous girlfriends later.  
  
Buffy took Angel’s hand and gave him her best confident smile. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? The way she was feeling about Willow and Angel’s friendship. Because she knew that was it was all it was. It was just… even though it wasn’t romantic, Willow seemed _closer_ to Angel than she was lately. She shook her head, not caring what anyone thought of the gesture. She needed to clear her mind. Begrudging two of the people she cared about most in the world a friendship? That was so not her. And anyway, right now she had a Box to heist and a Mayor to take down. “Let’s do this.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three

  
Feral (Chapter Thirty-Three)  
  
  
  
Something had told Liam to come to the library. “Kidnapped? What the hell do you mean she was kidnapped?” He’d arrived just as Angel and the others had and the looks on their faces… he’d been terrified that Willow had been injured. This was much worse. He approached his double, menace in every movement. “You told me you were going to keep her safe.” It was all he could do to keep his true face from emerging.  
  
What was Angel supposed to say? Because Liam was right. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but he had clearly implied he would watch over Willow and he had meant it as a promise. But he’d allowed his fears of exacerbating Buffy’s jealousy to inhibit him and now Willow had paid the price. “I’m sorry.” No one knew better than he did how inadequate that apology was.   
  
“Guys,” Buffy said, as she approached them. “We’re going to get her back.” She hadn’t heard all of the exchange, but it was clear that a fight was in the making and it didn’t take a genius to know that this was all about Willow.   
  
“We should go back to City Hall. Full-on assault.” Angel found himself developing a grudging respect for Harris at his adamant pronouncement. It was a bad idea, but Xander’s heart was in the right place.  
  
“They’ll kill her,” Giles replied.   
  
At the Watcher’s wearily delivered words, Liam fought harder than before to keep his demon under control. If anything happened to his love… He reined in his emotions and addressed Angel again. There was no point in talking to anyone else. “Did you get the Box?” When Angel nodded, he said, “Then we trade it for her.”  
  
Buffy wholeheartedly agreed. “I’ll call the Mayor and arrange a meeting.” They’d deal with the Ascension some other way. This was something she agreed on with Liam completely. Nothing was more important than saving her best friend. Nothing.   
  
She looked over at Oz, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. She was pretty sure, though, that despite everything that had happened, he was all for saving Willow’s life.  
  
Of course, on the other hand, Wesley just had to be a callous jerk. “You do realize that she’s probably already dead, don’t you? At any rate, the Box is the key to the Mayor’s Ascension. Thousands of lives depend on our destroying it. I want to save Willow as much as any of you…”  
  
Was he serious?  
  
A bark of bitter, mirthless laughter emerged from Xander, but what stopped Wesley from saying anything more was Liam’s hand around his throat. “No you don’t.” This wasn’t helping. As enjoyable as the spectacle of Wesley flailing ineffectively at Liam was, Angel knew he had to break it up. “Let him go,” he warned, his hand on his counterpart’s arm.   
  
He seemed to have gotten through to Liam, who let go of Wesley. It was hard not to laugh at the man wheezing and loosening his tie, but remembering that Willow was in mortal danger did the trick. Damn it! She was his friend. How could he have let this happen to her?   
  
Obviously confident that Angel would protect him, Wesley just had to try again. This time addressing Buffy. “You would sacrifice thousands of lives? Your sacred duty? Be rational. It can all end right here. We have the means to destroy this box.”  
  
Liam’s eyes fell on the urn standing on a pedestal, and in a trice he was there, picking it up and throwing it against a display case. There was something immensely satisfying in the sound of breaking glass and shattering pottery. “Make the call.”  
  
  
  
Could Willow just say one thing? Being kidnapped sucked. It sucked a lot. Some witch she was. It hadn’t kept her from getting taken prisoner, had it? Nor was it helping her open the window or find anything useful in the desk drawer. When this was over – _if_ this was ever over – she was going to get someone to teach her karate… and how to use a knife.   
  
Not that that knife would be much use right now. Eep! A vampire was her guard. And it wasn’t anything like Liam or Angel, was it? “Oh, uh, I'm looking for a sucking candy, cause my mouth gets dry when I'm nervous, or held prisoner against my will.”   
  
Oh God. He was coming closer. And he looked… hungry. “And suddenly I'm thinking sucking isn't a good word to use around vampires. Hey! Did you get permission to eat the hostage? I don't think so. You're going to be in some trouble when the Mayor ...Ow!” He grabbed her arm and slammed her into a wall… just like Spike had done. Was this something all evil vampires did? Because she officially hated it. And now his teeth were poised at her neck.  
  
“Just a little taste.”  
  
Ummm… how about ‘No’? Concentrating with all her might, Willow floated a pencil out of that desk drawer through which she’d been rummaging. Concentrating harder, she gave it enough force to stab and… poof! Never had she been happier to see a vampire meet its dusty end than right now. Nice that her Wicca skills weren’t entirely useless.   
  
Now was not the time for a patting-herself-on-the-back-party, however. Now was, in fact, the time to use her brand new ‘Get Out of Jail Free Card’ to get the heck out of here.   
  
  
  
Liam stood silent, scanning the occupants of the library, hating each and every one of them. What was Willow enduring right now? He hated to think of it, but his mind wouldn’t get off the track. Because, while Willow herself was nothing like the vampire from his world, there _was_ a version of that evil bitch alive and well in this place: Faith. She might not be undead, but in every other way, she was the counterpart of the sadistic monster who’d tortured him for years.  
  
And right now, Willow was at her mercy.  
  
“She’ll be all right.” Angel. Liam hadn’t noticed his approach.  
  
Liam said nothing; not that Angel was surprised. It was clear that Liam was worrying about what was befalling Willow. Angel was, in his own way, just as concerned about what might be happening to his friend. After all, with Faith involved… She wasn’t the most rational of girls, and she bore a serious grudge against Buffy’s friends, simply because Buffy _had_ friends. He wished he believed what he’d just said, but two seconds thought on the matter didn’t help.   
  
Oz was looking at the both of them now, face impassive, but there was something in his eyes… Whatever. Angel couldn’t care less what the wolf thought right now. He’d failed Willow and hurt her and what he thought of Liam or Angel meant less than nothing.   
  
What meant something? What was important? That would be the phone call Buffy was currently making in the office. Xander’s uncharacteristic silence showed that he, like Giles – who was polishing his spectacles absently – agreed. Willow had to be alive and the trade had to be made.  
  
Why was this call taking so long?  
  
  
  
Okay, it was official: a high IQ and university acceptances meant nothing. Because Willow Rosenberg was an idiot. I-d-i-o-t idiot. She had been in the clear, had a great shot at escaping, at getting home safe and sound and _alive_ , but what had she done? Thrown it all away to do some snooping in the Mayor’s office… and then, when caught, she’d traded insults with Faith. Was this self-hatred because of all the making out with Liam? Did she have a secret death wish? Because it would have been nice to know this about herself back when she could have done something to cure it instead of discovering it, oh, say… Now. Now when Faith had a knife at her throat.  
  
How weird was it that she was actually relieved when the Mayor walked in? Very. But she _was_ relieved.   
  
“Girls, I hope I don't have to separate you two. Faith, you can play with your new toy later.” Okay, not so much with the relieved anymore. Willow wasn’t by any chance the ‘new toy’, was she? “Something's come up.”   
  
Oh god. That something had better not include the ritual sacrifice of a hostage. Because the knife was still at her throat.  
  
“Faith! You know I don't like repeating myself.” Oh. Hey. The knife was gone now. That was good.  
  
“I got someone. I got him.” _That_ was Faith’s comeback? _That_ was her idea of a witty riposte after Willow had nailed her with some pretty truthful home truths? She was so _not_ a real Slayer, because Buffy had come up with better wisecracks when she’d had the flu.   
  
But now the Mayor was talking and it was a whole lot more important than worrying about Faith’s woeful inadequacy with the repartee. “I just received a heck of an interesting phone call.”   
  
Did this mean she was going to live through this after all?  
  
  
  
It was over. Willow was safe and on her way home. Buffy was all but dancing for joy. Or she _would_ be if Wesley weren’t glaring at them all. Maybe she needed to remind him of how he squealed like a little girl when Faith raised her knife. You didn’t see Giles acting like that and he’d been in way worse danger than Wesley ever had.  
  
She shuddered, shaking off bad memories of when he’d been tortured… and when he’d found Jenny’s body in his bed. The last thing she wanted right now was to lose the joy of Willow’s rescue in a morass of depressing thoughts.  
  
She couldn’t seem to break free, though. There was also that speech of the Mayor’s – his long-winded speech about how Buffy and Angel could never work. He was wrong, right? It was just something he said because he was evil and that was something evil people did: They said things to upset the good guys and throw them off their game. That was all that stupid speech was. That had to be all.  
  
“Will did a great job getting those pages from the Books of Ascension, didn’t she?” she crowed cheerily, doing her best to elevate her own and everyone else’s mood. And really, it was pretty slick that Willow had managed to do this, even while in mortal danger. Willow was really brave.   
  
“Yes, well, hopefully there’ll be something useful in them. The Mayor has the Box of Gavrok. As of now, we are right back where we started. Wouldn't you say?”  
  
Thanks for that, Wesley. She turned to Angel, hoping to see something comforting in his eyes, but there was a wall there and she had no idea what he was feeling.  
  
Great. Just great. You know that ‘thrill of victory’ thing? It so wasn’t happening for her tonight.  
  
Angel met Buffy’s gaze, but he kept his own counsel, not allowing his thoughts to bleed out into his eyes. It had been made abundantly clear to him tonight – watching her reaction when the Mayor spoke, the look in her eyes right now – that Buffy would do anything to avoid the truth.   
  
They had no future.   
  
He dreaded her reaction when he finally told her his plans, though he realized it would have to be sooner than later. It was sadistic, keeping her dangling on the sharp hook of false hope. He had faith in her. She could do her duty and defeat the Mayor even with her illusions shattered, but shattered they must be so she could prepare herself for his departure, so it wouldn’t be a sudden, shattering betrayal. As much he dreaded it, the time to tell her was very near.  
  
Not tonight, though. Not after everything that she – that _all_ of them – had been through today.  
  
He thought about going over to Willow’s to check on her, and to let her know how much he admired her courage and resourcefulness during her captivity, but he decided against it. She would surely be suffering an adrenaline crash and, at any rate, she deserved some peace and quiet.  
  
What was Liam feeling right now? Had he forgiven Angel? Had his anger been extinguished by the reality of Willow’s current safety? How would he feel in the same circumstances?   
  
The truth was, he still hated himself, so it wouldn’t surprise him if Liam hated him too. He only hoped they could somehow patch things up. He considered Liam his friend now, one of only two in the whole world, and the thought of losing that was anguishing, just as the fear of losing Willow in a different way had been such a short time ago.   
  
As much as he wanted to, though, he was sticking to his resolve and allowing Willow and Liam some rest. He could probably use some himself, but – looking around and seeing that Oz had left, taking his van with him – he knew what was expected of him first. “Come on, Buffy,” he said, the sudden sound of his voice breaking up some bickering between Xander and Wesley that he was almost sorry he hadn’t been paying attention to. “Let me walk you home.” He nodded to Xander. “You too.”  
  
“Well, as entertaining as it never is to chat with you,” Xander snarked at Wesley, “I probably _should_ be getting home. Oh, but before I go, I want to compliment you on that great falsetto you’ve got. You know, the one you unleashed back when you were cowering in fear? If this inept-Watcher-slash-wannabe-child-molest

er thing doesn’t pan out, there’s always a Bee-Gee’s tribute band.”

Angel found himself actually chuckling as they left the library. The doors closed behind them and Wesley still hadn’t thought of a comeback.

 

 

Home. Willow was sure she’d never been this happy to see her house. Still, now that she was out of danger, she was pretty proud of herself. Sure, she’d been fearful and scared and stuff, but she’d dusted a vamp with her Wicca mojo and stood up to Faith. Okay, her jaw was still kinda sore from the punch that had earned for her, but she was glad she’d done it anyway.

Liam had been really quiet all the way, though, and he’d been clenching his teeth like he was mad… or maybe he had just been really worried. As much as she got pretty tired of being treated like a helpless damsel, she guessed she couldn’t blame him for that. The peril she’d been in _was_ pretty perilous, Faith being basically psychotic and all. She had to admit she’d been really glad to see him when she’d been dragged in for the exchange. He was probably the best fighter out of all of them – maybe even better than Buffy – and his presence made her feel a lot more sure she was going to be rescued.

“Thanks,” she said as she opened the door and led him back into her house. “I mean, I know I said it before, but it’s not something you can say too many times and…”

Her babble was suddenly halted by Liam. More specifically? By Liam pulling her into his arms and kissing her.

He had hardly been willing to wait until they reached the house. Only the need for privacy and comfort had made Liam able. His emotions were in turmoil, the lingering fear from seeing Faith’s knife against Willow’s throat, the relief that Willow was now safe, the passion he felt for her – it was like a hurricane inside him and there was only one safe harbor from the storm.

Willow. He had to have her.

“Liam,” she protested weakly as his hands roamed over the velvet covering her slim form. But just like yesterday, she did nothing to stop him. Just the opposite. She arched into his touch, moaning as his lips caressed her neck and his hands found the soft swell of her breasts.

Okay – this? This Liam with the hands and her with the responding thing? This should so not be happening. Yes, it felt good – really, really good – but it wasn’t right. Not like it was fair to Liam, who, she finally got it through her head, seemed to have real feelings for her – non-friendship-type feelings, which she was pretty sure were probably a lot bigger than the very confused ‘gosh I have no clue what's going on with us’ kind of feelings that she had for him. She got that they were both pretty emotional right now and there was still the whole adrenaline thing but…

Oh god! They were on the couch now, weren’t they? How had they gotten here? Why was she on her back? And why did this dress have to be so stretchy? Because it was all pulled down her shoulders now and her bra was pulled down and Liam’s mouth was on… Oh god! He needed to stop. Because this was dangerous. Way more dangerous than the Mayor. “The curse,” she panted. “You need to…”

“It’s okay,” he murmured against her neck. “I won’t forgot what I am. We’ll be safe.” Pushing her skirt up around her waist, he began rubbing her through the wet cotton of her panties.

She wanted this. It was true that he could smell fear, but that was overridden by the overpowering scent of her arousal. Even through her weak protests, her body arched against him, wanting him, _needing_ him. He undid his trousers and then ripped away her panties. Right now, right here, she was going to be his.

It was too late. Liam was inside her. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. It hurt too, except… it was powerful and she felt filled and it was like this need for something that she just had to have – this place she was desperate to get to and Liam could get her there. There was something she was supposed to be afraid of, a reason she was supposed to push him off of her right this second, but she couldn’t think of what it was. She was just this big ball of ache and need and ‘oh this feels amazing’ and it consumed her brain, leaving her helpless.

There were no words for what Liam felt as he made love to Willow. It was even more glorious than he’d dreamed… But not for one moment did it make him forget that he was a demon. Instead, it called to that side of him in a way that made him feel whole – and made him more determined than ever to keep what was his. He felt his face change and, not wanting to scare her, he buried it in the crook of her neck, even as he allowed his demon to become more demanding in its taking.

“Oh!” she cried out as Liam began thrusting harder, his hand between them now, stroking her and… “Oh! Oh God!” She clung to him as she experienced what she dimly realized was her first real orgasm. Wow. That was…

“Willow!” Liam cried as he followed his lover into release.

His body shook as he came down from the high, reveling in the heat of her still surrounding him. He felt his face change back into its human guise and he dared to move and gaze into her eyes. Oh no. She looked terrified. “It’s okay,” he said gently. “I still have my soul.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, still slightly out of breath from the orgasm and now the fear. She stared into his eyes and, okay, maybe she was being sort of egotistical, but she was pretty sure she could tell and… yeah, the soul was there. Of course, now? Before she could stop herself, she said, “Guess this wasn’t perfect happiness, huh?” Why did she want to cry? She should be glad that her stupid hormones hadn’t unleashed Angelus.

Liam was still staring into her eyes. “That’s not it at all,” he said as he stroked her cheek. “Believe me, you were wonderful.”

“But…”

“There are things you don’t know about the curse.”

Oh. “Oh?”

 

 

To be continued…


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four

Feral (Chapter Thirty-Four)  
  
  
  
“There are things you don’t know about the curse.”  
  
Willow’s head was still spinning with the realization that she’d just lost her virginity – to Liam – on her living room sofa, the terror she’d felt at the prospect of Liam going Angelus, and the weird mix of relief and humiliation she felt at the fact that the sex hadn’t in fact been soul-taking, so it took a moment for his words to penetrate the whirring chaos in her mind.   
  
“Oh,” she said, as his words sank in. What was it about the curse she didn’t know?  
  
Liam moved off of her, pulling his pants back up and sitting at the end of the couch. It was easier to have a conversation this way. “You left the transcript of the curse and your notes on my computer,” he said gently, realizing that Willow was still completely overwhelmed. Frankly, he’d been hoping for a far gentler and more romantic sort of pillow talk, but then again, he hadn’t foreseen the circumstances of their first encounter. He’d intended to tell her what he’d learned about the curse before they made love. Now it was all turned around. “I read what you had to say. You were already almost there and I was able to figure out the rest.”  
  
“The rest?” It was almost disappointing to see her pulling her skirt back down and cover herself up, but he understood. And at least she was sitting beside him.   
  
“It’s not just happiness. It’s happiness of a kind that makes the vampire forget that he’s a demon.”  
  
“Oh.” All she could seem to say was ‘oh’, but what else was there? She pulled up the memories she had of studying the curse and went through them again and… You know, she’d been about to come to that very same conclusion. Why hadn’t she? Why had she suddenly put it up, forgetting about it and never finishing her research?  
  
The answer was as easy as it was painful.  
  
Buffy.  
  
Because the truth about the curse meant that Angel had to have forgotten what he was… and she guessed that being with a Slayer would have made that pretty likely – maybe even mandatory, what with the way demons generally felt about ‘the one girl in all the world’ and all. Plus, the whole ‘no demon’ thing was sort of what Angel loved about Buffy, wasn’t it? The way she made him feel human? Buffy told her Angel had said that once, a long time ago – before he’d lost his soul.  
  
So this mean that Buffy could never be with Angel…   
  
…but Angel could conceivably be with someone else.  
  
Ouch.   
  
While Willow had to admit she was glad that having sex with Liam hadn’t endangered the world or anything, this just brought home once again how unfair Buffy’s life was. She couldn’t go to Northwestern and she couldn’t have the man she loved. Being the Chosen One was a great big pile of awful, wasn’t it?  
  
Still, she guessed she was sort of glad for Angel… except for the part where he’d probably feel worse knowing that the curse was more Buffy-specific than they’d thought.   
  
Liam’s voice dragged her out of her thoughts. “What are you thinking?”  
  
“About Buffy. And Angel.”  
  
While he wasn’t surprised by that, Liam wished she was thinking about him and what had just happened between them. This had all gone differently from how he’d envisioned it – not that he had any regrets. Oh no. Making love to Willow had been… it had made everything worthwhile: everything he’d endured in his own world, every day of rape and torture and suffering.   
  
“They were never meant to be, I guess,” he offered equivocally, concealing his own revulsion at his counterpart’s choice of mate. The bastard _deserved_ to lose his soul – and so much more – for fucking a Slayer.   
  
What should he say now? He wanted so badly to tell Willow how much he loved her, but he wasn’t sure she was ready – strange after the way she’d given herself to him. However, she was timorous in the oddest ways and he knew he had to adapt himself to that. No hardship, well not one worth bothering about. “You are so beautiful,” he compromised, reaching over to caress her cheek softly.   
  
Her blush was exquisite. Leaning in, he was about to kiss her again when she placed her hand against his chest, gently pushing him away. “We have to talk.”  
  
  
  
The drawing program open on his laptop, Angel moved the mouse and created. It was so different from the feel of a charcoal pencil in his hand and yet… funny how the creative process was just as satisfying. He wouldn’t have believed that would be the case if you’d told him, but having found out for himself…  
  
Another sketch of Willow was taking shape – not surprising considering how relieved he was that she had been rescued… and how guilty he felt since it was his fault that she’d needed rescuing in the first place.   
  
He supposed that was what coloured his current vision of her – an imperiled damsel, beautiful, brave, and terrified. The look he’d seen in her eyes when Faith had dragged her in with a knife to her throat was right there before him in the drawing. No escaping his own folly, was there? Never was there stronger proof that his involvement with Buffy, far from complementing his redemption, actually compromised it.   
  
But Willow hadn’t wasted her captivity, had she? Behind those fear-bright eyes a mind of more than passing cleverness had worked. She’d managed to purloin some critical pages from the Books of Ascension and for that Angel had to admire her even more than he had before. Even in mortal danger, she was first and foremost a soldier in the same battle to which he was pledged, only unlike him, she hadn’t been press-ganged. No, she’d volunteered.   
  
Why? What had led a girl with no hideous misdeeds for which she needed to atone to sign up for this war? Once she’d seen into the darkness, why hadn’t she run for dear life?  
  
He wondered… what would Buffy have done? If she hadn’t been the Slayer. What would have happened if she’d just been the ordinary girl she often claimed she wished she was and she’d found out what really happened when the sun fled? For that matter, what about _him_?  
  
Memories of who he’d been before his turning told him he wouldn’t be doing what Willow was, that was for sure. His thoughts made him ashamed of himself.  
  
Focusing on the screen again, he noticed he’d begun to draw a second figure as rescuer – a familiar one at that. But who was it, he wondered: was it him or was it Liam?  
  
  
  
Liam’s lips were on her neck and Willow was left wondering how this could be happening – again. Because she had totally meant for them to be talking right now. Seriously and soberly. About the fact that this was really not a good idea. It’s not like she was in love with him; at least, she didn’t think she was. But thinking? That was becoming a serious problem.   
  
The next thing she knew… “What are you doing?” she squealed as he picked her up and carried her to the stairs.  
  
“I think we should be somewhere more comfortable.” Oh god. They were going to do it again, weren’t they?   
  
Right now would be a good time to break out her Resolve Face and tell him to put her down. Because this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.  
  
Except for the part where the first time had felt really, really good and she’d been told that it always got way better after the first time and she had to admit to being pretty curious about how much better it could actually get and…   
  
Liam kissed Willow again as he began to carry her upstairs to her bedroom. She was thinking – he could tell – and he had no intention of allowing her to think her way out of this. If he made love to her again, taking his time, showing her more completely how he felt and how good he could make her feel, surely he’d bring her that much closer to loving him the way he loved her.   
  
Soon enough, here they were. He’d kissed her breathless on the way and as he laid her on the bed, her glazed eyes and swollen lips told him his argument had been more persuasive than any pretty speech. He began unbuttoning his shirt. This time there was no soft protest. Instead, she just watched.  
  
Willow’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head as Liam undressed. She’d never seen a man completely naked before – not in person anyway. Wow. He was… Wow. Did Angel look like this? And did she want to be thinking about Angel right now?   
  
Oh god. Something just occurred to her. Vamp senses. Buffy had told her that Angel was able to tell she was a virgin by her scent. Did that mean that now…? Oh great. Too late now, wasn’t it? Guess maybe she should have thought of that earlier, but to be fair to herself, she hadn’t been all that capable of thought. Liam was kind of outstanding at kissing – among other things. She blushed.  
  
He was still standing there, by her bed, and he was looking at her sort of expectantly. Her blush remained, but now it was because she felt like a total dork. He was all nude and everything. She was supposed to be naked too, wasn’t she?  
  
Yes, she was really going to do this. She was going to have sex again. With Liam.   
  
And yes, she was ignoring the voice of logic and sense which was trying to persuade her of the myriad reasons to keep her clothes on and her legs crossed. Instead, she got up and started pulling up her dress. Which there was no way to do gracefully. She felt about as unsexy as it was possible to be as she tried to get the tight garment over her head.  
  
Liam fought back a smile as Willow struggled to remove her dress. He could see that she was trying to be alluring in some stereotypical way, but her awkwardness was what he was attracted to – not the smooth sexual confidence he associated with that doppelganger with whom she shared some superficial characteristics of appearance.   
  
He went to her, helping her finish pulling the dress over her head and tossing it on the floor. Her skin was pink from her cheeks all the way down to her breasts. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before taking her in his arms and kissing her. There was nothing more that needed to be said.  
  
His hands found her breasts, enjoying the way she arched into his caress. So responsive. She was perfect – so completely perfect. Even the scent of her…  
  
Which suddenly made him realize something. Tomorrow, there were two who would know what had transpired between them whether they would or no. That was something about which he hadn’t thought.   
  
But now wasn’t the time for such concerns. Now he had the woman he loved in his arms and they were about to make love again. He removed her bra, the last garment she wore, and lowered her to the bed.  
  
Liam’s fingers were between her thighs and Willow knew what was about to happen. He was gentler this time, but not any less passionate… or any less wonderful. She wasn’t experienced but she didn’t think it required much to know that Liam was an extraordinary lover – the way he touched her, the way he knew exactly what to do to drive her crazy.   
  
A few seconds later and he was inside her. “Oh,” she gasped. It was already better. The way he was moving inside her. She began to get the hang of it – the rhythm – and she closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the sensations they were creating together. “Liam!”  
  
If the first time he’d made love to Willow had been heaven, then there was a paradise which put heaven to shame as a ramshackle slum because Liam was there now. Willow was responding to him with greater fervor, letting him guide her, and the pleasure was indescribable. Her orgasm almost brought on his own, but he held back, wanting to take them both even higher. He thrust harder, her wordless cries urging him on, the heat of her filling him as he filled her, and she screamed out in ecstasy once more.  
  
This time he joined her and the feeling was almost more than he could bear. His demon visage brought forth, fangs and ridges buried against her neck just as before, he gave in and sank his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder, allowing himself a taste.  
  
Again, she cried out, but she held his head against her, obviously relishing the pain that accompanied the pleasure.   
  
She was perfect, so perfect, and as he felt his fangs recede and his human mask once more cover his true face, he whispered, “I love you.”  
  
  
  
It wasn’t late – well, not as late as Buffy had thought before glancing at the clock – but it felt late. It felt like those times after patrol was over and the whole city was silent when she was at Angel’s house and the world seemed to have shrunk to where they were the only two people in it. She didn’t have times like that anymore, did she?  
  
She’d hoped to. Tonight, what with Willow safe and even some pages from the Books of Ascension to soften the impact of having to hand over the Box of Gavrok, she’d been sure that she and Angel would go back to the mansion and things would be just like they used to be.  
  
Wrong. Instead, Angel had walked her and Xander home with barely a word, dropping her off without so much as a kiss on the cheek.   
  
Buffy was getting fewer smoochies from her vampire than Willow was, that was for sure… and that sounded creepy and jealous and wrong, even just in her own head.   
  
Maybe she needed to take Willow up on the offer she’d made to… No, no. She’d been right to turn that down. Because she knew what she needed to do wasn’t to let Willow do her dirty work for her but to take Willow’s _advice_ \- confront Angel and ask him point blank what was going on with their relationship.  
  
There was just one problem: Was she ready to hear the answer?  
  
Taking a deep breath, Buffy headed back downstairs and out of the house, fortunate to evade her Mom’s hearing and notice. If she didn’t do this now, she’d never have the courage to do it all.   
  
She was going to talk to Angel.  
  
  
  
Willow was still panting, sweaty, and slightly buzzed from the incredible sex, but she was pretty sure that she’d heard what she thought she’d heard: Liam loved her.  
  
Oh god did this make things complicated, although she had to admit she wasn’t sure why. Was it because she didn’t love him back? Or did she?   
  
It was just that this was so… different. This was nothing like her crush on Xander or the love she used to feel for Oz or even the crush she’d had on Giles. This was… confusing. That’s what it was: confusing. Because she was sure she had some sort of important feelings for Liam. She’d let him be her first, and honestly she’d been a lot more eager to be with him than she’d been when it came to Oz, even though she had tried to seduce him that one time.   
  
Was it possible to be really in love with someone but not as physically attracted to them as you were to someone you liked but didn’t love? At least didn’t love as much? How could you not know if you loved somebody or not anyway? Shouldn’t there be rules? Or a handbook? Why wasn’t any of this covered in Sex Ed? Because the stuff they actually _had_ covered wasn’t nearly as hard to get information on all by herself.   
  
Stroking Willow’s hair, Liam lay beside her, watching her as the wheels turned behind those soft green eyes. He knew there was no way to prevent her from thinking far too much about what they had just shared, but he knew too that their second coupling forestalled any attempt to halt their relationship in its tracks. Once could be transformed by a timorous mind into a mistake, never to be repeated, but twice?   
  
There was something they _both_ needed to think about, though, and that was what to do about the fact that at least two people would know about this tomorrow, like it or not.   
  
“We need to decide how to tell the others,” he said, knowing full well that Oz and Angel were unlikely to keep this a secret once they tumbled to it.  
  
Despite the fact that she’d realized earlier that thanks to the whole ‘vamp senses’ thing, Angel would probably know what she’d done the second she got within twenty feet of him, Willow didn’t see why they had to share the news with anyone else. “Can’t I just talk to Angel? He would totally understand and he wouldn’t tell anyone. Not if I asked him not to.”  
  
“What about Oz?”  
  
“Oz?” Oh no. She hadn’t thought about that. “Werewolves can tell?” Liam nodded and Willow’s heart sank right down through the mattress and onto the floor. This was so a disaster, and not just because Oz would hate her forever. Xander would too. And probably Giles.  
  
And Buffy. Buffy, who, because of Willow, would now learn that Angel could go off and find someone else and be happy – just so long as that person didn’t make him feel human the way that Buffy did. Great. As if she hadn’t done enough damage lately by getting herself kidnapped and thus unwittingly helping the Mayor with his Ascension.   
  
She was about to cry when thinking about that very captivity made her think about magic. The way she’d slain that vampire with a pencil. She’d done a few other things lately, like that glamour… okay, just on a zit, but how much harder would it be to do a glamour on… “I could change my scent,” she crowed, sitting up excitedly. Liam sat up with her, clearly confused. “I could do a glamour. That might work, right?”  
  
As much as he didn’t necessarily trust magic, Liam trusted Willow and he had to admit that her idea was clever – and it very well might work. It would be a fine thing if it did since he honestly didn’t relish dealing with the reactions from the others under the current circumstances. No, it would be better if all was revealed in a way that he was able to orchestrate and control completely, and that would take time and planning. Thinking for a moment, he offered a suggestion to Willow. “Do you have any laundry? From the past few days? Something fresh?”  
  
“In my hamper.” He enjoyed the view as she nearly leapt from the bed and rushed to her closet. “What would be the best?”  
  
“A complete outfit would be good,” he suggested. “Including your underwear.” He could tell she was blushing again even though he couldn’t see her. She was adorable.   
  
A few seconds later, she emerged, much to his disappointment, wearing a robe and carrying a blouse and tights and a pair of jeans; he was certain her underwear was wrapped in them. “Okay. I need you to be completely quiet so I can concentrate.” Following her instructions, he watched as she got some supplies out of a box under the bed. This was going to be interesting.  
  
  
  
“Angel,” Buffy called out tentatively as she walked into the mansion. She didn’t see him, but again, his laptop was sitting open on the table, so he had to be here, right?   
  
Just as she had so recently, she went over to the couch and sat down, wondering if he was sketching again and, if he was, hoping that maybe this time it was her.  
  
He was, but it wasn’t.  
  
It was Willow again.   
  
And she wasn’t alone.  
  
This time, Buffy didn’t wait to talk to Angel, didn’t wait to let him explain. This time she ran from the house and didn’t look back.   
  
Why hadn’t she just stayed home?  
  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	36. Chapter Thirty-Five

Feral (Chapter Thirty-Five)  
  
  
  
Okay, the glamour was done and Liam had assured Willow that she smelled like a virgin – though yes, that whole scent thing was still kind of creepy – plus, her shirt and sweater completely covered the bite mark on her shoulder so she should totally feel safe today, right? Then why, instead, did she feel like she’d just drunk about eight mochas and wandered into a cemetery at midnight? Without a stake?   
  
Probably because, scent aside, she sure didn’t feel like a virgin. She didn’t even feel like she’d just lost her virginity. She felt sort of experienced and womanly and… it was so, so weird. When she looked in the mirror, she was pretty sure she looked the same, but then again, she wasn’t absolutely positive. What if someone looked in her eyes and saw the Willow inside who was totally different from the Willow she’d been back when her sexual experience consisted entirely of clumsily making out with Oz in the back of his van and those few relatively chaste illicit smoochies with Xander?   
  
More than anything, she wished she could talk to someone because she had all these complicated feelings going on – and questions about what exactly those feelings were and what they meant – and she had nowhere to turn for answers.   
  
Not like she could go to Buffy… who, come to think of it, she hadn’t seen yet this morning. Where was she?  
  
  
  
“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay here with you?”   
  
“No, it’s okay, Mom. I’ll pretty much be asleep all day. But thanks.”  
  
“If you need me, I’ll be at the gallery. You have the number.” Buffy closed her eyes as her Mom kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair, tucking the blanket over her for good measure, just like back in the days when cookies and cartoons could make everything better. Oh how she wished those days weren’t gone forever.  
  
She felt her mother leave the room and she opened her eyes again. Definitely of the good since every time she closed her eyes, she saw the sketch. And yes, she’d thought about it and realized that maybe it was Liam Angel had drawn… but what if it wasn’t? What if Angel _did_ have something in common with his creepy double from Bizarro World after all? What if that something was being attracted to Willow?  
  
This was completely new to her, this ‘being jealous of her best friend’ thing. Could she go on the record right now and say she hated it? Because she did. It sucked. It was worse than Homecoming. It was worse than the Talent Show.   
  
It was worse than her Dad missing her birthday.  
  
Buffy loved Willow. She did. That hadn’t changed; no, it hadn’t. And that made resenting her so much more painful than resenting people she couldn’t care less about, like Cordelia. Because in spite of loving her more than anyone except her Mom, she really did feel jealous of Willow right now. Willow, who had at least one vampire, and maybe two, drooling over her. Willow, who had cost them the Box of Gavrok, but who’d been brave enough to get the pages from the Books of Ascension while being held hostage by crazy Faith.  
  
Willow, who’d been the only real friend of the female variety that Buffy had ever had.  
  
That last was so much more important than everything else, and Buffy knew that. She also knew in her heart that if Angel did have a thing for Willow that Willow hadn’t done anything deliberately to make it happen and had no idea it even existed.  
  
God, all these thoughts going back and forth in her head were driving her crazy. If she’d just stayed home last night…   
  
And she was back to blaming Willow, wasn’t she? Because Willow had advised her to go ask Angel point blank how he felt and if she hadn’t, Buffy would have stayed home last night and…  
  
Nothing she saw would have been any less real just because she hadn’t seen it.   
  
So no, none of this was Willow’s fault.  
  
If there was anything.   
  
Because no, she hadn’t actually confronted Angel; she’d just confronted his laptop, which wasn’t exactly the same thing.   
  
Her thoughts were still bouncing around her head like Willow on caffeine and none of this was getting her anywhere. Throwing off her covers, Buffy bounded out of bed with single-minded determination. She would pull herself together, get dressed, and go talk to Angel for real this time.   
  
Then she’d know for sure. Then maybe she could figure out exactly how to feel.  
  
  
  
The sketch hadn’t changed, no detail had been added since last night, and Angel was thinking about erasing it, though he stopped short every time he was about to. After all, his depiction of Willow was something he wanted to remember. It was the other figure who was somewhat troubling, though there was no good reason for that since nothing in the way he was posed with Willow was romantic no matter who it actually was.  
  
Of course, he was pretty sure that Buffy had seen it entirely differently, and he knew she _had_ seen it. The aura of ‘Slayer’ had still been strong enough for him to sense when he’d come back downstairs. He really should have closed his computer before… but why should he have to? This was his house. He shouldn’t have to lock up his possessions or hide everything he was doing. The fact that Buffy had run off after looking at a sketch wasn’t something for which he should be expected to feel guilty, was it? Because she had acted like a child.   
  
But what he was really wondering was why he hadn’t gone after her. After all, catching up with her would have been easy. She hadn’t been gone for long and couldn’t have gotten far, not far enough to outstrip someone with his supernatural speed. So why hadn’t he tracked her down and talked to her?  
  
The more he thought about it, the more he looked at the sketch. Maybe there was some truth in it for him to find… Like the possibility that he was glad it had driven Buffy away. It had done his work for him, hadn’t it? No need for a messy scene when he made tracks out of Sunnydale, no concerns about dealing with tears and pleas. No, this way it was all over but the packing and his hands stayed clean, he could even have lied to himself and said that ultimately she had broken up with _him_ if he hadn’t thought about it.  
  
He _had_ thought about it, though, hadn’t he? In fact he was thinking about it right now. Had he actually drawn it for Buffy to find in the first place?  
  
He was glad to at least be able to honestly tell himself that the answer was no. Not because of any great courage or a sense of respect for Buffy, the way it should have been, but because he knew he could never hurt Willow, and he knew without a doubt that, thanks to this drawing, Buffy wasn’t feeling completely friendly towards her best friend… a best friend she shared with Angel.  
  
Willow _was_ his best friend and this wasn’t fair to her. Talking to Buffy wasn’t optional. When the sun went down…  
  
“Angel?” Well, what do you know? It looked like he wasn’t going to have to wait to repair the damage.  
  
“Buffy.” He should have sounded more welcoming, but he was still annoyed with her on principle for running out last night instead of talking to him.   
  
It wasn’t hard for Buffy to figure out why Angel didn’t exactly seem thrilled to see her. “I guess you know I was here last night.” He nodded. Great. ‘Taciturn Man’ was in the house. “I’m sorry. I mean it. I shouldn’t have been snooping and anyway, I should have talked to you about it instead of racing off.” Okay, she was trying really hard to be a grown-up here. Could Angel throw her a bone or something instead of just standing there being all inscrutable and grim?   
  
Since he just kept standing there, silent and sullen, her best guess was that the answer was ‘no’.   
  
“Look. I really _am_ sorry, okay? But with the way you’ve been blowing me off lately, and with me not knowing why, I guess I just got a little paranoid. And what with the way Liam’s been drooling all over her, it’s not all that hard to imagine…”  
  
“That I’m ‘drooling all over’ Willow, too?” Mad wasn’t exactly the new look Buffy had been hoping for from Angel, but it seemed to be what she’d achieved. Was she ever going to get it right with the man she loved?  
  
She did sort of get it, though. “Sounds kind of silly when you say it out loud,” she admitted.  
  
“It does.” Well, at least now they were agreeing on something. That was a start, right?  
  
“I know you and Willow aren’t like that…”  
  
“But you think I wish it was different.”  
  
This really wasn’t going well, was it? Not like she’d done anything to make it that way, so she better take her lumps. “No… I just… okay, maybe I did think that, but now I don’t.” All right, that wasn’t the most convincing she’d ever been, but cut her a break – she was trying.  
  
“I’m not in love with Willow. Which I would have told you last night if you’d asked me about it.”  
  
“Fair enough.” She was pouting, though, and Angel suddenly felt as if he was about to be manipulated.   
  
There was a time when he wouldn’t have even noticed, let alone stopped her, but now… Now, he might not be in love with someone else, but Buffy wasn’t the center of his world anymore. Amazing how different things looked when you saw the forest and not just one tree. “Glad we’ve got that straight.”  
  
The pout intensified and her eyes shone with confusion. “Angel. What’s wrong?” Then she said something that caught him off guard with its directness. “Do you still… are we still ‘us’?”  
  
As much as he couldn’t help hating the pain she was obviously feeling, her words were the light at the end of the tunnel. They were a way out. “No,” he answered. “We’re not ‘us.’”  
  
  
  
It was late morning and Liam should probably get out of bed, but he didn’t really want to. The scent of his coupling with Willow surrounded him on the sheets on which he was lying and it was intoxicating.  
  
A part of him, naturally, wanted to publicly proclaim that Willow was his, but he knew it would be foolish. First of all, the Mayor and his slut needed to be defeated, an end which would not be well-served if Willow’s pathetic ‘friends’ were distracted by their jealous desire to ruin her life by ending her relationship with the man who loved her. Second of all, those same fools were still numerous enough to create real problems for him should he forced to deal with them _en masse_. No, everything would be much better if he were able to ‘thin the herd’, as it were, before anyone was the wiser about the way the order of things had changed.  
  
Fighting evil, after all, was such a dangerous business. Incompetent civilians – like Xander – were sadly ill-equipped for the battle and even Slayers, Watchers, and other demons – werewolves, for instance – were not guaranteed to survive. It would be tragic, at least in Willow’s estimation, if one – or more – of her little comrades didn’t live to enjoy the fruits of victory, but – as long as the battle was won and Faith and the Mayor were destroyed – Liam was quite sure he could console her… and her remaining chums weren’t too likely to pause in their grief long enough to put up more than a token argument against her taking comfort in the arms of a fellow warrior, now were they?  
  
He smiled and stretched, enjoying the feeling of satiety which suffused him for the first time in such a very long time… ever, really. It suddenly hit him that was the first time he’d ever been in love. Being with Willow had been the first time he’d truly made love, hadn’t it? In a sense, they’d been two virgins. His smile grew broader as the magnitude of the event was driven home. Stretching one more time, he decided to get up at last and take a shower. He wished he was a decent cook. It would be nice if he were able to make dinner for Willow… or at least a batch of those cookies Ted made, the ones the neighbors craved so much; he’d never thought to get the recipe.  
  
He wished Ted was here. Ted would be the one person with whom Liam could share his happiness. But no, Ted was gone. Almost all of him, anyway, and certainly everything about him that mattered. Someday, though, Liam would avenge his friend.  
  
Someday.  
  
In the meantime, he had love – he had Willow. That was a glorious thing. With that, vengeance could wait. He went back to the room he’d been using, wondering what Willow’s parents would think if they saw him sauntering naked down their hallway.  
  
What _about_ those neglectful cretins, anyway? More food for thought, he supposed. But later. After a shower.   
  
  
  
Buffy lay across her bed, sobbing her heart out. It was over – her life was over. Yes, she was still breathing, but that was a technicality and not one that she considered a blessing at the moment.  
  
She and Angel… there was no ‘Buffy and Angel’ anymore, was there? Nope. Not according to Angel, and he’d laid a lot – okay _some_ – of the blame off on _her_ , which was totally unfair and cruel and wrong and… true. Because yes, _she_ was the one who’d gotten all weird after the Faith thing and told him she’d needed a break. But she’d said ‘break’, not ‘break- _up_ ’, and anyway, hadn’t she pretty much called it off? Okay, not in so many words, but still, she thought she’d been pretty clear in indicating that break-time had ended.  
  
Then there was that word he’d called her: sadist. How could he say that? Just because of how she dressed. Like it was her fault miniskirts were fashionable. And okay, maybe hers were pretty short, but…  
  
Oh god, she really was sadistic, wasn’t she? Wearing tight little tops and the shortest skirts she owned around him which could only remind him of what he could never, ever do, ever again. She’d never thought of it that way before, but now that she saw herself through his eyes… Yeah, she was pretty much evil and skanky and horrible. Because the curse didn’t make him stop wanting – it just kept him from having.   
  
Part of her wanted to dig up the gypsy who’d thought up the curse in the first place and slay her. Another part of her wanted to raid Willow’s closet for her fluffiest sweaters and most opaque tights. The former would be pointless, but the latter… maybe if she was a little less fashionable and a lot more modest, she could show Angel that she wasn’t thoughtless and cruel. Maybe then he’d see that they could be together; their relationship could still work.  
  
She’d already given up the idea of attending a major university. How much harder could giving up fashion be? Social suicide, after all, was a small price to pay for love. Where did Willow shop?   
  
  
  
Buffy hadn’t shown up at school at all and Willow was officially worried. Had something happened after she’d gone home? While she’d been having… s-e-x with Liam, had Buffy been injured? Or killed? No, that was silly. Someone would have called her.   
  
She’d have heard the phone, right?  
  
Anyway, she was being ridiculous. If something had happened to Buffy, for sure someone would have said something today. Especially since they were all hovering, well Xander and Giles were doing the actual hovering, but she’d seen Oz more often than she’d expected. Did that qualify as hovering?   
  
Maybe all this worrying and anxiety was just her way of trying _not_ to think about Liam at school, around other people, who might, maybe, be able to figure out what she was thinking about. And yeah, okay, that would seem very paranoid under most circumstances, unless you, for example, had a best friend who’d picked up the ability to read minds from a demon not so long ago.   
  
Oh god. She’d had sex. Really, really amazing sex. With Liam. Who nobody but her knew could have sex without losing his soul… just like Angel, who also didn’t know, not that it mattered since he couldn’t have sex with _Buffy_ and if he did know, he’d probably feel all guilty and…  
  
She’d had sex.  
  
Her thoughts were repeating themselves, huh? Probably because she was way more freaked out than she had been this morning. Why? She had no idea, but once again she really wished she had a friend she could talk to. If only… But there was no one, was there? Not a single person in the whole wide world she could go to for advice and understanding. She was just gonna have to suck it up – maybe not the most fortuitous choice of metaphors, huh? – and deal with it all by herself.  
  
Well, and with Liam.  
  
The bell rang, startling her. But that was a good thing. She had calculus now, the least sexy of all possible classes. She would take notes for Buffy and drop them by her house this afternoon on her way home.  
  
There wasn’t a scarlet “A” on her sweater, was there?  
  
  
  
No question about it – Angel had been a first class prick and he knew it. Looking back on what he’d said to Buffy, he wanted to cringe. It was for her own good, though. He was leaving - though he'd turned coward and not told her that part - and frankly she was better off thinking he was a mean and selfish jerk; she’d get over him that much faster that way.  
  
Deep down, too, he had to admit that in part, he’d meant those things. It really _did_ annoy him, the way she’d been upset with him for playing up to Faith when the whole thing had been her idea in the first place. And it _was_ heartless of her to tease him with those miniscule outfits of hers. Did she think that just because he was coldblooded, he couldn’t get hot and bothered? How bad _was_ her memory?   
  
That didn’t mean, though, that he didn’t have other, more personal reasons for the break-up and that didn’t mean that the blame was all laid to her account. It was just that explaining that to her, being completely frank and open, wouldn’t be in her best interest. She wouldn’t understand and the break wouldn’t be nearly as clean. Better for her to think he was shallow and heartless. That way, once the Mayor was vanquished and Angel was gone, she’d look around and see all those boys who wanted her and she’d find one she wanted back. Then she’d have the normal life, the normal _love_ \- complete with marriage and babies and a house in the suburbs – of which she’d always dreamed. Because she _could_.  
  
What, Angel wondered, could _he_ have?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	37. Chapter Thirty-Six

Feral (Chapter Thirty-Six)  
  
  
  
Calculus notes in hand – well, in backpack, anyway – Willow headed up the walk and straight to Buffy’s front door. To knock or not to knock, that was the question. Knocking was pretty formal. They never knocked. If she knocked, Buffy would probably know that something was up. But what if she was ill? Willow didn’t want to bother her, so knocking lightly would be a way to let Buffy know she was here, if she was awake, that wouldn’t disturb her if she was sleeping.  
  
Of course, Buffy wasn’t exactly a heavy sleeper, so she’d probably wake up no matter how softly Willow knocked. Should she just go home? Leave the notes in the mailbox? Was that legal? Or were there federal laws about leaving things that weren’t mail in mailboxes? Why didn’t she know this? She should know this. In a year or so, she was supposed to start voting and here she was completely ignorant of the law. She was such a bad citizen.   
  
Also, she’d spent last night having fantastic sex with a guy who looked an awful lot like Buffy’s boyfriend – the one Buffy _couldn’t_ have sex with. That did not make things any less awkward or weird right now.  
  
Okay, thinking about Angel and sex with Liam? Not such a great idea because that just naturally led her to wondering if Angel was the same in bed and… Oh god. She so had sex on the brain right now. In fact, she’d had sex on the brain all day. Was everybody like this after their first time? She wasn’t going to _stay_ like this, was she?  
  
You know, she was still standing here on Buffy’s porch. The neighbors were going to start asking questions if she didn’t either go in or leave in the next few seconds.  
  
Opening the door cautiously, Willow stepped into Buffy’s entry and looked into the living room. Nope, her friend wasn’t there. Which made sense. Duh. Buffy was probably upstairs in her room. So, as quietly as she could manage without the whole ‘supernatural stealth’ thing that practically everyone she knew but her was capable of, she headed upstairs.   
  
“Willow?” Buffy called out. It had been a long time since it freaked her out to be able to recognize her friends’ footsteps. Now she thought it was pretty cool. At least it wasn’t mind-reading; _that_ had sucked. Anyway, she was really grateful Will was here because she needed her help on fixing her wardrobe… and no, she had never, ever thought she’d see the day when she’d be asking Willow for fashion tips. Because, hey, she loved her friend with all her heart, but she wasn’t exactly a style maven. Of course as of this morning that very obliviousness was exactly what Buffy was looking for. “I’m in here.”  
  
  
  
Try as he might, research was proving to be out of Liam’s power at the moment. His attention simply refused to cease straying to last night’s glorious lovemaking with Willow. So he gave up and closed the window for the demon lore site. His mind was unequal to the task of translating 14th century German for the time being, especially since it seemed to be another false trail anyway. Instead, he logged onto the Sunnydale High website, wanting to learn a bit more about this place where his lover – and that was what she was now – spent her days.  
  
Very quickly, it occurred to him to wonder … did other high schools have an obituary column in their student newspaper, either the online or offline edition? He had a hunch that they didn’t. He hadn’t spent much time with high schoolers before he’d found his way to the Sunnydale in his world, but he’d learned in advance that students died there at an unusual rate even before the Harvest. Afterwards… well, an obituary column would have been larger than the school yearbook.  
  
But there was an obituary column on this site. Were any of the names of Willow’s friends? Did she have any friends outside the tight little circle with whom she fought evil?   
  
The answer was almost certainly no and that did give him pause for a moment. A diminution of such a small group would have to cause her enormous pain. Still, the thought didn’t make him change his mind. It wasn't as if any of them were her _real_ friends. They’d let her get kidnapped, after all. At any rate, she’d have him and he’d help her get through any grief.   
  
Time… the time was fast approaching, wasn’t it? Graduation was coming up.   
  
Before that, however, it looked like there was a big dance – the prom. He wasn’t completely out of touch; he knew about proms. How wonderful it would be if he could escort Willow to hers – dance with her, show the world that she was his.   
  
Not a good idea, however, and he knew it. Their relationship needed to remain private for now. It would be wonderful to be able to escort her, and he hated the necessity that compelled him not to, but at least he could take comfort in the fact that she almost certainly would not attend without him and he didn’t have to tear himself up at the thought of her in some boy’s arms.  
  
He was the jealous type; he could admit that.  
  
They could have their own _intime_ celebration right here, he decided. Romantic music, dancing… and of course other, more pleasurable activities. Was there a way he could order in some gourmet food? Champagne?   
  
But how would he pay for those things? It chafed, not having access to his money. He’d saved a tidy sum over the years. Which made sense. Sooner or later, a vampire realized that eternity wasn’t free. Creature comforts couldn’t – and expedience dictated that they _shouldn’t_ – always be acquired by slaughtering the wealthy. Lucre, filthy though it might be, was required.  
  
Angel, by rights, ought to share. They were… well, Liam no longer thought of them as the same man, though technically he supposed they were, but there was a twisted consanguinity there. Perhaps he should hit his Slayer-whipped counterpart up for a portion of those spoils he was sure the man had also amassed. How else, after all, could he be paying what had to be onerous utility bills for that cavernous ruin he inhabited?   
  
Was Liam a hypocrite for feeling a desire to play on their relationship for selfish ends? Of course, but what did that signify? Everyone was a hypocrite on some level and admitting it was at least honest, if not honorable. As defects of character went, it was far less odious than the vices in which he’d indulged without a soul.  
  
Perhaps he should call Angel, chat for a bit about the Mayor and Faith, then casually mention feeling guilty about not being able to offer Willow any recompense for her hospitality… yes, that seemed like a fine idea. He went over and got the phone.  
  
  
  
Buffy was deadly serious about this, but Willow was feeling very ooky. Also, did she look as weird in her clothes as Buffy did? Because if she did, she so needed to buy a new mirror. “Are you really sure that this whole ‘changing your style’ thing is a good idea?” she offered tentatively. Buffy was turning from side to side, but Willow’s pink sweater wasn’t looking any better on her, same thing went for the brown corduroy skirt. Maybe it was because Buffy was shorter than her… okay, only an inch or so, but still…  
  
“Angel said that dressing the way I do around him was sadistic,” Buffy almost wailed. “I have to do something, you know, be less naughty-thought-inducing.” And you know that ooky feeling? There was also a little ‘insulted’ mixed in with that, now that Willow thought about it. Okay, maybe she didn’t dress like she was on MTV or anything, but she wasn’t _totally_ lacking in sex appeal, was she? Liam sure didn’t think so, anyway.  
  
“I don’t think…” Gosh was it a good thing that she stopped before finishing that sentence because she was about to say that she didn’t think Angel could ever be around Buffy without having naughty thoughts and that would be bad and upsetting and even though Buffy was implicitly insulting her wardrobe, she loved her and she didn’t want to hurt her that way. She shifted gears. “What I mean is, you can still dress like you, just maybe… I don’t know, buy your clothes a size bigger or something so they’re not quite as tight.”  
  
“You think my clothes are too tight?” The minute Buffy said it, she felt like a jerk, because she knew that Willow was just trying to be helpful. Anyway, _Angel_ was the one who had said they were too tight. ‘Painted on with a very small brush’ were the words he had used, actually. “Sorry. I guess I’m just feeling… He broke up with me. Because of my clothes.”  
  
Willow got up and hugged her and Buffy hugged her back. Good thing she hadn’t totally offended her best friend.  
  
“This has to work,” she said. “It just has to.”  
  
  
  
“I’ll come over after sunset.” Hanging up the phone, Angel sighed. How selfish could he possibly be? He couldn’t believe that it had never occurred to him to give Liam any money. Willow had been giving him shelter and a computer and, now that he thought about it, she had to be paying for his blood as well. Not once had he offered to reimburse her for those expenses. Also, Liam really should have some money of his own. If his counterpart hadn’t mentioned regretting his inability to give Willow some sort of graduation present…   
  
He was so ashamed of himself. If nothing else, didn’t he still owe Liam something for everything he’d put the man through during the fiasco with Faith? And what about Willow? Willow, who was there to pick up the pieces… who’d helped him mend fences with Liam… who was _his_ friend too. He shouldn’t have been so heedless. And really, come to think of it, shouldn’t he give her a graduation gift too? She’d helped him join the modern world, gotten him onto the internet… and yes, the safety valve of online porn was no bad thing. Funny how much easier total self-denial had been in the alleys eating rats.   
  
Why was he thinking about sex at all? It wasn’t entirely a logical progression from thinking about his computer, though he did admittedly have more than a few hardcore sites among his bookmarks.   
  
It was probably leftover sexual angst from this morning’s confrontation with Buffy. When they’d parted… no, he wasn’t sure he’d handled it well, though conversely he was sure he’d done the very best he could have done. There was no way he could have broken things off with her without devastating her, he knew that, and he was still convinced that being a selfish jerk had offered the best chance of her not feeling his departure too keenly.   
  
Running a hand through his hair, he sighed again – it was becoming a habit, wasn’t it? Well, it wasn’t the worst habit he could have. What he ought to do right now was not worry about his thoughts or his involuntary tics and go get some of his money from the study. Sundown was coming in an hour or so and he could also use a shower and a meal.  
  
  
  
 _“It’ll be okay, Buffy. I know it will.”_  
  
What she’d said to Buffy echoed in Willow’s head as she headed home, wearing the pink sweater and brown skirt which she now intended to throw in the garbage at her first opportunity. She was pretty sure - at least she hoped - she didn't look nearly as bad in them as Buffy did, but better safe than sorry.  
  
Yet on that very subject – the word ‘sorry’… How sorry was Willow right now that she’d been so definite in her bolstering of Buffy’s hopes about Angel? Because no matter what Buffy thought, Willow was pretty sure – make that absolutely sure – that there was more to this break-up than Buffy’s see-through tops and shorter than short skirts. The timing of this… It was definitely off. And the reasoning? Yeah, Angel was a guy, but he wasn’t that shallow… was he? No. No way.   
  
Did this have something to do with the Mayor? With that long-winded speech he’d made during last night’s hostage exchange?   
  
It had to be, because that was the only thing that made sense. Angel could be all wacky with the noble self-sacrifice and maybe even self-hating enough to act like a total jerk so Buffy would hate him too.   
  
He was ridiculous. Willow understood, but he was still ridiculous and what he was doing wasn’t really for either of their own good because they loved each other and they could…   
  
And you know, she was sure being presumptuous. Because yes, Buffy was miserable, but what about Angel? He had rights and maybe he really was tired of all look and no touch. Maybe it would be easier for him not to be around Buffy all the time. Because hey – sex was pretty awesome, Willow had to admit, and she wasn’t sure she’d be too happy if she had to give it up forever, although…  
  
No, she couldn’t tell him. Because he still loved Buffy and he’d still feel awful knowing that she was probably the only girl in the whole world who could have cost him his soul. Still…   
  
She didn’t know _what_ was right. But maybe… maybe she should split the difference. After all, she’d nearly figured out the truth about the curse herself. If she dropped a few hints, all casual and sneakily, he might figure it out too. Or he might not. But either way, at least she was playing fair. And if he did figure out the truth, he would know without knowing any of the other stuff. Because she and Liam both agreed that going public, or even semi-privately-public, would be a very bad idea.  
  
Someday she was going to learn to think and walk at the same time because when her subconscious took over, she was never very happy about it. Somehow, during all this thinking, she’d changed direction and here she was about twenty feet from Angel’s door. Oh no. When she’d thought about talking to him, she’d meant later. But she was here now, wasn’t she?  
  
So she finished walking the rest of the way to the door and she knocked. Here she figured it was for sure the right thing to do.  
  
Angel came downstairs, hair still slightly damp, but dressed and about to head to the kitchen for some blood when he both heard a knock and sensed a familiar presence. Willow was here.  
  
He had a pretty good idea why, too. Any wager placed on a possibility other than Buffy having cried on Willow’s shoulder in the last hour would be a losing bet. But as much as he really didn’t want to talk about this right now, he wasn’t going to turn Willow away. Besides, she was _his_ friend too and maybe she could help smooth the rough edges off of the end of his relationship with Buffy.  
  
“Come in.”  
  
She did, timorously, thus confirming something that hadn’t needed confirmation in the first place – her reason for being here. He did them both a favor by cutting to the chase. “I’m guessing you’ve talked to Buffy.”  
  
Well, there went the need to make awkward small talk. Willow should be grateful, she supposed. “That obvious why I’m here, huh?”  
  
Luckily, he smiled at her, so at least he wasn’t _too_ mad, right? “Can I get you something to drink?”  
  
Without thinking, she said, “A glass of water would be great, thanks,” and then she wanted to kick herself because now he’d leave the room and she’d be standing here alone, feeling all nervous and tempted to just leave and… hey! She could follow him.   
  
And she did.  
  
Angel was a bit taken aback by his guest trailing him into the kitchen, but Willow had a tendency to do small, unexpected things. “How is she?” he asked as he got a glass down and filled it with ice and then water from the tap.   
  
“She’s all right.” Angel raised his eyebrow at that rather ridiculous lie and Willow backpedaled. “Well she wasn’t totally hysterical or anything.” He raised the eyebrow higher and Willow’s shoulders slumped, posture conceding defeat. “Okay, she thinks if she dresses like me, you’ll get back together with her.”   
  
Now both of Angel’s eyebrows rose. “She what?” Of all the scenarios which had played out in his head about what effect his words might have on her, this had not been one of them.  
  
“She made me let her try on my outfit, Angel. You should have seen her.” Willow had been trying very hard to achieve a spirit of pathos and a sympathetic portrait of a girl so desperate and in love that she’d do anything, but she got the idea that she might have failed when Angel covered his mouth and she heard sounds which seemed suspiciously like chuckling muffled by his hand.  
  
Great. Even Angel thought she dressed funny. “I am so burning this when I get home,” she muttered. “Look, I know it seems kind of extreme, but she loves you and she really is sorry for making it hard for you, what with the curse and all.”  
  
“I wasn’t laughing at you, Willow. And you don’t need to burn your clothes. They look lovely on you. Buffy just doesn’t have the right attitude for them.”  
  
Huh? Oh jeez, he’d heard her. Great, because she so enjoyed being patronized. “Look, I know I’m not exactly that Cosmo girl,” she began.  
  
“And you don’t need to be. Hell, you shouldn’t be.” Angel found his tone becoming heated, but he did feel somewhat strongly about this, he realized. “It takes strength to be yourself, not to need outside validation of what you wear and how you look. Believe me, it’s attractive. Maybe not the same way, and maybe not to as many people, but I don’t think you care what most people think anyway.” Her eyes grew moist and he reached out and put his hand on her arm. “The reason Buffy looked weird in your clothes is because it matters to her – all that admiration, every boy in school ogling her, every girl envying her and copying her.”  
  
“Is that what bothers you? Because I promise you, Buffy doesn’t even look at other guys. Really.”  
  
Angel chuckled again. He knew what she meant, but he also knew Buffy looked – not seriously, but she looked, tested, flirted. It used to drive him wild with jealousy and he realized with a start that it didn’t anymore. He was terrified to think of what that might mean so he did his best to tamp the epiphany down even as he said, “It doesn’t bother me,” and tried to pretend it wasn’t true.  
  
“Are you sure? Because…”  
  
“I’m sure. But there’s something you need to know.”   
  
He took an unneeded breath, but Willow surprised him by saying it first. “This isn’t really a clothes thing, is it? You said it was, but there’s really something else and you just figured it was better to tell her this than the truth.” It wasn’t just the little things about her that were unexpected.  
  
“You’re right.” Not like Willow didn’t know that, but it was nice of him to respect her and admit it. She really did appreciate their friendship. “I guess I should have handled it differently though. It never occurred to me to think that Buffy…”  
  
“Would think a makeover would fix things?”  
  
“No, I didn’t. Maybe I should have.”  
  
At this moment, Willow got it, more clearly and sharply than she ever had – how Angel had lost his soul. Because it was so obvious that to him Buffy was first and foremost the Slayer, the Chosen One, the one girl in all the world – well, until Faith showed up, but then again, she didn’t count, did she? And that was a tangent. The point was that she knew something now that she didn’t think Buffy or Angel knew: that Buffy, the teenage girl loved Angel, but he loved Buffy, the Slayer. There was more, too, but she didn’t want to think about it because she was already torn into pieces.  
  
“You’re a guy,” she stumblingly offered. “Guys don’t think like that.” She paused and added, “For what it’s worth, I told her not to dress like me, though I did sort of suggest buying her clothes a size larger, but I don’t think she’ll really do it, and…”  
  
Angel interrupted her by pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay, Willow. This isn’t your responsibility. I screwed up and I’m the one who needs to fix it.” Meeting with Liam was going to have to be postponed, which made him feel even more like a jerk because… But wait a minute. “Look, I promised I’d drop a book by for Liam. Could you take it to him? Because I think I should talk to Buffy tonight, get this straightened out.”  
  
“Sure,” she responded. With that, he left the kitchen, oddly sure that she’d wait there this time. He had an envelope with cash in it sitting on the coffee table. Easy enough to slip it into a book. He’d pick one he wouldn’t miss and, Willow being Willow, he also knew that even if she opened the book, she wouldn’t open an envelope with Liam’s name on it. All would be well.  
  
And it was. He was back in two minutes, book in hand, and she was standing by the sink… washing her glass. She never ceased to surprise him. “Here’s the book,” he said. “I’ll put the glass away,” he added, correctly interpreting the glances she darted around the kitchen as a struggle to remember from which cupboard he’d gotten the cut glass tumbler.   
  
“Okay. Thanks.” She took the book and then it was her turn to hug him. “Good luck,” she said. “I hope you guys get things worked out.” It was touching the way she tried to rework what she was supposed to say as _Buffy’s_ friend into something that also communicated that she was _his_ friend. His nose was against her hair as he drew in another unnecessary breath, then they let go of each other and he walked her to the door. Something nagged him subtly along the way, but he said nothing – what, after all would he say since he had no clue what he was bothered about? – and he watched as she ascended the crumbling steps and walked off home.  
  
What _was_ nagging at him all of a sudden anyway? Was it about Buffy? Suddenly, and seemingly for no reason, he thought about the sweater, that fluffy, angora sweater. Boy it must have looked pretty silly on… But that wasn’t it. No. It was the angora. The wool.  
  
And Willow’s scent.  
  
Because she was wearing an angora sweater… but he could have sworn that he smelled cotton.  
  
What did that mean?  
  
Another in a long line of heavy sighs. Of course. Buffy had tried on her clothes, so Willow had to have been wearing something while she sat there watching her friend play dress up. That had to be it. It was just the leftover signature of some shirt of Buffy’s.   
  
He really needed to stop seeing signs and portents in absolutely everything and maybe try focusing on mundane reality a little. Especially now. He had damage control to do.   
  
The sun was setting soon and he had a blonde head to screw on straight. Willow’s scent was really not the problem tonight.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	38. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Feral (Chapter Thirty-Seven)  
  
  
  
Patrol. Yes, she’d done it alone before – lots of times, in fact – but tonight Buffy felt lonelier than ever. What if she never patrolled with Angel ever again? She shivered through the thin cardigan she was wearing over the tight tank top she reminded herself with a pang that she was going to throw away. You know, the nights had been sort of chilly lately. On her next patrol she’d be wearing that comfy new sweater and one of the thicker-knit tops she’d picked out with her Mom today. Showing her the acceptance letter from UC Sunnydale had done the trick – not only had her Mom been willing to believe it was responsible for Buffy suddenly feeling a lot better, it also made her willing to spring for some new ‘mature college girl’ clothes. They were a lot warmer than what she had on right now. Sure, they weren’t quite as flattering, she thought with a pang, but that was sort of the point. The whole ‘no-lust’ look. Which she planned on adopting completely starting tomorrow. Tonight was her last spandex hurrah.  
  
What if the new wardrobe didn’t work, though? What if Angel didn’t take her back?  
  
The more she thought about it, the more she remembered the look on Willow’s face when she’d told her the reasons Angel gave her… and the more she thought that maybe Angel hadn’t been as honest as he’d said he was being. Because she had to admit that the whole ‘clothes’ thing was pretty shallow and Angel… Okay, he stared at her breasts a lot, but most guys did; that didn’t mean that every guy she met was shallow, just that she had pretty nice breasts. Which she did. And if that seemed arrogant, then so be it. She’d taken the pencil test and passed with flying colours.   
  
Angel stared from the shadows at his ex-girlfriend, who sported tight jeans, a barely-opaque tank top, and a cardigan so thin and flimsy that it was pointless for her to wear it. Well, at least she hadn’t burned her wardrobe; that was a plus considering she was supposed to be looking for a new boyfriend now.  
  
So if she hadn’t spent her time buying all new and more demure clothes, why was she late? He’d been wandering her normal patrol route for at least an hour. In fact, he’d been debating whether he should go by her house, only demurring because he worried it would give her more false hope than she already had. “Hey,” he said, as he emerged from behind the foliage, still as amazed as ever at how startled she was when he appeared. She was never able to sense his presence. One more sign, he decided, that they weren’t meant to be.  
  
“Angel.” Rather obviously, she pulled her sad excuse for a sweater closed and he couldn’t help but shake his head.  
  
“I was hoping to run into you,” he said and immediately wanted to kick himself when he saw the look in her eyes. He quickly moved to dash her pipe dreams. “I saw Willow today and… we need to talk.” Oh no. He’d stuck Willow in the middle of this. Nice friendship skills there, Angel. Obviously some of that rat blood he’d ingested years ago had clung to him. “She was pleading your case,” he fibbed, “and she made me realize that I hadn’t done a very good job of making things clear.”  
  
“You need to make things clear?” Buffy asked haltingly. Her eyes were shining and he already hated himself.  
  
“Buffy,” he said gently, “it’s not just the clothes.” He reached out and took her by the hand even though he knew that touching her was a mistake and one hell of a mixed signal. “We’re never getting back together. You need to accept that.”  
  
  
  
Willow had managed to avoid physical contact with Liam so far – except for their hands touching when she handed him the book from Angel – not that it had been easy; she’d had to break down and borrow her parents’ car to make a trip to the grocery store and spend way longer than she actually needed to wandering through the aisles, but at least she _had_ managed. Because oh god did she ever feel guilty. First of all there was the fact that she and Liam had made with the whole s-e-x thing in the first place, because she and Oz hadn’t exactly been an ex-couple for very long. Then there was the big, horrible fact that they were keeping it secret from Buffy… and from Angel. And yeah, okay, she had promised herself she’d drop some hints to him, but she hadn’t exactly done that yet and…  
  
Why had Angel broken up with Buffy, anyway? She’d wanted to ask, but she’d already felt like she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, so… Okay,why? She'd thought maybe it was the Mayor's speech, but now that seemed sort of flimsy. What else could it be though? Not like he knew he could get happy elsewhere or anything. Was this the Faith thing? Was he still mad at Buffy? Because… You know, Willow kind of got that and as disloyal as she felt for even thinking it, yeah, Buffy had been sort of a bit-ca. But hey, no one was perfect. She herself did not have a shining history as the perfect girlfriend, though her chances of being voted Sunnydale High’s ‘biggest tramp’ would be pretty darn good if her classmates knew her whole history, especially the part where she’d lost her virginity to a vampire who looked sort of – okay _a lot_ – like Buffy’s boy… _ex_ -boyfriend. Which meant nothing to _her_ \- okay, she'd sort of thought about... but not really - since she knew how completely different they were, but other people… She needed to not be so thinky. Because now here she was. Back home. Where Liam was.   
  
He was probably gonna expect them to… wasn’t he? And maybe she was kind of expecting they would too. It _had_ been pretty amazing.  
  
Did this make her a nymphomaniac or a slut or anything?   
  
Whatever it made her, she was starting to wonder if guys were the only ones whose brains migrated south of the border sometimes.   
  
Liam was in the kitchen as Willow walked in with two bags of groceries. “I was starting to worry,” he said. The truth was that he’d been near panic. After yesterday? If it hadn’t been before dusk, not dark, he’d have never let her go alone. She’d been gone for well over two hours and all sorts of scenarios, most involving Faith and the Mayor, had played out in his head all the while. He’d even thought of using some of that money he’d found tucked into the copy of _Great Expectations_ Angel had given him to call a cab or something so that he could search for her with greater efficiency than on foot. Still, he was well aware that she hated to be treated as if she were vulnerable – even though she was – so he dialed down his tone. “I’m glad you’re back,” he finished with what he hoped was a smile.  
  
“There’s three more bags in the car,” she said, turning to go back out. He quickly cut her off and headed to the garage. Chivalry, after all, was not dead.   
  
A moment later, he returned bearing the rest of the groceries. “I’m glad you took the car,” he quipped.  
  
Willow smiled. She was sure glad he was joking and stuff because for a second she thought he was going to go all ‘caveman overprotective’ on her and yeah, okay, maybe after getting kidnapped and all yesterday he might have had a point, but it always chafed when people treated her like a helpless damsel. Because hey! Not so helpless. She had totally managed to dust a vamp with her magic… not that she was going to share that particular anecdote with Liam. “Yeah. Even if I could have levitated the bags, people might have noticed me surrounded by floating cookies and ground meat and stuff on the way back.”  
  
“I don’t know. You could have blamed it on… what is it you told me… gangs on PCP? Barbecue forks?”  
  
She was trying to figure out just how either of Sunnydale law enforcement’s favorite excuses would explain levitation when suddenly Liam was right next to her. Oh god. Her palms were damp and her knees were weak and… Down, girl! Bad hormones! Bad, bad, bad! There was research that needed doing and, while everyone would forgive her for skipping it last night – though probably not if they knew just what she’d been doing – she couldn’t justify slacking off for two nights, especially not to herself. “Angel and Buffy broke up,” she blurted out. “Well, Angel was actually the one who did the breaking, but yeah, they’re broken up.”   
  
His double had finally grown a pair, it seemed. Liam felt a certain respect for him, though not much. The man had fallen for a Slayer in the first place. That was a sin nothing could ever expiate. How, he wondered, did Angel face the son of the morning with that stain on his demon? Did it make his time in Hell more agonizing? If only he’d had the sense then that he so recently seemed to have acquired.  
  
Approbation of his counterpart’s belated wisdom was unwise at present; Liam knew what was expected of him instead. “Is she all right?” Willow’s soft expression as he expressed fraudulent concern for her pathetic friend made the pretense well worth it, especially since she was honest in her reply.  
  
“Not really. She’s pretty hurt.”  
  
Now was a fine time to take Willow in his arms, so he did. “It’s what’s best for her, though. We both know that. Now she can find someone she can really be with.”  
  
With her head against his chest, Willow realized with a start that there was something missing – a heartbeat. Which made sense, what with him being… Oh god. She’d lost her virginity to a dead guy. So now in addition to worrying about being a nympho, she had to throw possible necrophilia in too?   
  
Of course, she wasn’t the only girl she knew who had, as Xander would say, gotten freaky with a vampire, which reminded her… For a guy with no heartbeat, Liam sure had a kind heart. Here he was being all concerned about Buffy even though they didn’t exactly have the best history. He was really considerate, wasn’t he? At least if she was going to be all hormonal about a guy, it was a really good guy.  
  
She was about to look up, but she knew what would happen if their eyes met – the kissing would start, and then… No. The world needed saving and there was meat sitting in bags that needed to go into the fridge and… “Oh gosh! The ice cream!” she cried. Liam let go of her and she rushed over to the bags, rooting through frantically for two pints of Ben and Jerry’s which desperately needed to be rescued from imminent transmogrification into soup.  
  
Liam chuckled as he watched her comical state of panic. He knew what this was really about, and it wasn’t terror over the potential loss of snack food.   
  
She wanted him.   
  
As much as he wanted to take her right here on the kitchen table, however, he knew they couldn’t live in a sexual bubble. The time until the Ascension was dwindling and the Mayor remained an implacable and deadly foe. Research needed to be done and since Willow had gotten a look at the Books of Ascension… “Do you remember anything from the pages you gave to Giles and Wesley?”   
  
  
  
You know, before she became the Slayer, Buffy could count on one hand the times she’d cried her eyes out. Now, though? Well, it was no wonder she drank so much water. She needed it. Angel was gone – though not as gone as he was going to be soon, apparently – and lucky for her there were no other vamps around because she was sitting at a picnic table, crying her eyes out.  
  
Of course, vamps weren’t the only demons in town and one of them sat down across from her, silent and unreadable. “Oz.” Buffy vigorously wiped her eyes and struggled to get herself under control. “What are you doing here?”  
  
He shrugged. “Driving around. Saw you.”  
  
“Oh.” Was he gloating? Enjoying the fact that she was finally as miserable as he was? Might just serve her right, huh? “Something up?”  
  
“No. Just driving.” Boy, he was as big a talker as she remembered. “You okay?” And now she was wishing he’d said two words less, because that simple question threatened to turn the water back on.  
  
“Yeah, fine,” she said, knowing that it was a bad lie given that her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Heck, she didn’t even have a mirror and she could tell – for sure Oz could.   
  
“You sure about that?” There was an inflection in his voice that sounded like real concern. Same went for the look in his eyes. When he reached across the table and took her hand…  
  
“Are you still mad at me?”   
  
He chuckled mirthlessly. “Maybe. But I’m still your friend.”  
  
It sounded a lot like he meant it, too. So okay, she was going to trust him. “Angel broke up with me.”  
  
“Sorry.” His hand tightened around hers but he didn’t ask any questions. It was kind and much appreciated. She wasn’t ready to talk about it.  
  
Of course, she couldn’t do silence nearly as well as he could. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot of this breaking up stuff going around. Probably should have gotten vaccinated or something.” She was trying for witty and unconcerned, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t her finest banter moment.   
  
He shrugged again, looking away and down at the ground. “Yeah, maybe.”   
  
Now she felt just awful because Oz clearly wasn’t ready for jokes, but apologizing seemed like it would just keep the subject front and center, so… what should she say? She should say _something_ , right? Opening her mouth and hoping for the best, she ended up as shocked as he was by what came out. “Hey. Any chance you’re looking for a prom date?”  
  
No reply, but his eyebrows said ‘huh?’ quite eloquently. She didn’t blame them. “I didn’t mean like a _date_ date,” she quickly clarified. And that was completely true. It was just that… “Not sure exactly what I meant except that… hey, we each lost the loves of our lives recently and I’m pretty sure neither of us is interested in getting back on the dating horse, but the prom’s kind of a rite of passage and I guess I just thought…”  
  
“I’m in.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah.” He smiled slightly before adding. “Don’t want to miss what might be the last party before we all die.”  
  
“Wow. That’s… I was going to say depressing, but come to think of it, you’re not wrong.”  
  
Silence again as they both pondered that, yeah, they might be dead very soon. Heartbroken, single, and dead. This was not the way she wanted it all to end.   
  
This time Oz was the one to speak. “Want a ride home?”  
  
“That’d be great.” She got up and followed him to his van. The van. The not-very-clean van. Which brought up a point she wanted to clarify. “We _are_ renting a limo for the prom, right? Because I’ll get my Mom to pay for it.”  
  
  
  
If Buffy’s heart hadn’t been broken before, Angel was pretty sure he’d managed the job tonight. But wasn’t it better for her not to have any false hope? In the long run, Angel knew that it was. He knew too that in spite of her pain, she’d be as strong a warrior as they could have against the Mayor and Faith – maybe stronger. Anger and anguish could be fuel and he’d seen that potential in Buffy’s character.   
  
As for him, he would devote every bit of himself to saving the world – same as always – and in a way he felt like he could be more effective now, now that having friends had stretched the borders of his world wide and reminded him of just what his redemption was all about. He saw things more clearly with Buffy no longer the center and substance of his universe.   
  
Graduation. He had to admit there was a certain poetry in the date when it was all set to go down. Endings, evolution, new beginnings. He supposed the Mayor saw it the same way. But only one side would get a new beginning. For the other, the ending was the end of the line.   
  
It wasn’t going to be the good guys. This wasn’t Liam’s world; it was his. In this one, righteousness would triumph.   
  
Walking over to the sofa, he sat down and opened up his laptop. Back to the message boards.  
  
  
  
It was weird now, just being around Liam. Sex changed things a lot, didn’t it? Yeah, she’d known that before, but there was knowing and then there was _knowing_ , you know? She knew a lot of stuff differently. And then there was all the stuff she used to think she knew that now she realized she didn’t know at all.  
  
Being smart wasn’t enough, was it? Book smart, anyway. It wasn’t nearly enough. Because reading things in books or learning it online or from teachers wasn’t anything like what life was and she was starting to think that maybe thinking you knew the important stuff just made everything harder when you found out that none of that stuff applied and you had to unlearn it all and then learn a bunch of totally different stuff while you were going through the life experiences you really needed to know stuff for. Was that why girls like Buffy and Cordelia were always ten steps ahead of her? Because they didn’t have that whole ‘unlearning’ thing getting in their way and they could just hit the ground running?  
  
And you know, maybe all her thinky-ness was part of the problem as well. You didn’t see Buffy sitting around analyzing everything.  
  
Well, you didn’t used to. Now, though? Yeah, Buffy was trying hard to figure stuff of her own out and Willow felt awful for envying her a second ago, because Buffy had problems and sadness and she deserved compassion.  
  
Should she have told Angel that Buffy had given up Northwestern for him? _Northwestern_! That was a big deal. If Angel realized the kind of sacrifices Buffy was making for him, would he realize how much she loved him and give her another chance?  
  
But then she thought about Angel. He was her friend too. Would laying a big guilt trip on him be fair? Shouldn’t he be able to break up with Buffy if he really wanted to? But… How were they going to live in the same town and fight evil together and stuff? This was not going to be one of those ‘we can still be best buds’ things like her and Xander, and she knew that. After all, Buffy and Angel hadn’t exactly started off as friends.   
  
She turned to look at Liam, who seemed absorbed by what he was looking at on his laptop. Would they be able to go back to being friends? What would happen when this was all over and she went off to college?  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a frantic knocking on the door, followed by it bursting open. “Xander? What’s wrong?”   
  
Liam stared, eyes narrowed, at the boy who had just intruded on a quiet evening of research with the girl he loved. This had better be an emergency.  
  
“Will?” Xander’s face was chalk white, almost as white as that of the vampire Liam remembered too well – not a flashback he needed to have. Liam felt his fangs itch to descend.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Willow repeated.  
  
“You’ve gotta help me. I got into something and… You’ve gotta help me.”  
  
Willow looked terrified and Liam had to admit that this did sound bad. Though he cared nothing for Xander’s safety, it wouldn’t do for the boy to die now, not when that would be a distraction. “What is it?” he interjected, realizing he was at least curious.  
  
“Xan, it’s okay,” Willow assured him, going to him and taking his hand, trying to hide the terror she was feeling. What kind of badness had he stumbled into? “Whatever it is, I know we can fix it.”  
  
Xander took a deep breath. “Anya asked me to the prom… and I think I might have accepted.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	39. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Feral (Chapter Thirty-Eight)  
  
  
  
“I can’t believe he’s going to the prom with Anya,” Willow said as soon as she saw Xander disappear into his house. She and Liam had walked Xander home, with her trying to minimize the sheer awfulness of his impending ordeal all the while. Of course, once Xander was out of earshot… “This is going to be the worst night of his life,” then she thought about Jesse, “well, the _second_ worst night of his life, but still… it’s _Anya_. She’s creepy and awful and blunt and rude and heartless and… all right, not such a change considering his _last_ girlfriend, but… Oh god! Anya!”  
  
Liam took her hand as they started walking back to her house and she didn’t pull away. Was he her boyfriend now? She guessed he was, huh, considering all the sex they’d had and probably would have and…   
  
That was Oz’s van driving towards them. Oh gosh. Liam spotted him too and she was so grateful when he dropped her hand.  
  
Well, well, well – if it wasn’t the world’s most worthless wolf in his cheap clunker of a van. Oh how Liam wanted to shove the boy’s snout in his relationship with Willow. Soon. Not now, however. So he let go of Willow’s hand and walked by her side as if they were mere friends. The van slowed slightly and he could feel Oz’s eyes on him – they were the same ignorant, mistrusting eyes the human boy from his world had and they were more ridiculous than ever in the head of a wolf.   
  
Are you gonna stop, boy? Give one of those silly speeches? Are they the same as the ones from before?  
  
But no, the van kept going. He wasn’t sure if he was glad or not, but a look at Willow made up his mind. She was relieved, so he decided that he was as well.  
  
Okay, was there a bigger word than grateful? She sure needed it right now. Gosh was she glad Oz hadn’t stopped. Because yeah, the glamour was still in effect, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable with facing Oz tonight… especially not while in the company of the guy to whom she’d just lost her virginity. “Phew. That was kind of close, huh?”  
  
Liam’s expression was unreadable. Not all that new for her, actually. It might be the only thing he had in common with Oz, but it was… or was it… okay, maybe it was significant or maybe not, but it was definitely weird that she seemed to have a thing for the taciturn type considering her first major crush was on Xander, who was so very _not_ a silent and inscrutable guy. “Guess I shouldn’t be insulting Xander’s prom date,” she offered, not wanting to talk about Oz. “At least he _has_ a date.” And that was sort of a stumble right back into dangerous topic territory.  
  
“You’re not going?” Liam was surprised, pleasantly so, to hear her confirm his wishes.  
  
She, on the other hand, didn’t sound happy at all. “I can’t… well, I could. It’s not like you can’t go unless you have a date. It’s just… It’s sort of pathetic, you know? Standing by the punch bowl while everyone stares and makes… Not that I care about what people say or anything. It’s… Prom is really more of a couple-y thing.” She shrugged, trying and failing to look as if it didn’t matter, and Liam suddenly felt a sense of sympathy. His love was a teenage girl and while she was very different in many ways from most, she still wanted some of the same things they did.   
  
But he couldn’t take her, and he knew that. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, but kindly.   
  
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, though, and he knew it.   
  
Somehow he would make it up to her, give her something special to make up for her being deprived of her night of adolescent frolic. In the meantime, he took her hand once more and led her back to her… _their_ house.  
  
  
  
On the one hand, it was a relief to have a date to the prom, on the other hand… Oz? She’d asked Oz to the prom? Boy was that gonna cause some talk. People were going to think she was a boyfriend-snatching ho or something. Of course, they were graduating so she wouldn’t have to spend too long as the subject of high school rumour – especially not if the Mayor flame-broiled them all anyway.  
  
But what about Willow? How was she going to handle this? Would she be angry? And you know, this was really something she should have thought about _before_ she asked her best friend’s very recent ex to go to the prom with her.   
  
Why hadn’t she? Why had she just blurted out that invitation?  
  
Was she angry at Willow because of those sketches? Because she was friends with Angel? Because of how, in spite of the new wardrobe, Angel had dumped her and it was easier to be angry at someone who wasn’t the man she loved?   
  
Those were really good questions, but – just like the questions on that last calculus pop quiz – they were questions she didn’t have the answers to at the moment.   
  
Instead, here she was – puzzled – sitting right here in the room where she’d borrowed Willow’s clothes for her fashion experiment… that last ditch attempt to hang onto the one person who’d made being the Chosen One really feel like being chosen for something special instead of chosen for the worst kind of crappy, restricted life – with no idea what she was doing.  
  
Should she call Willow? Or wait ‘til tomorrow and tell her at school?   
  
The first was probably the right choice, but she was so chicken she was probably coated in eleven herbs and spices, so… Tomorrow at school it was.  
  
Oh, and was there any way she could convince her Mom to let her exchange all the way too dowdy new clothes she’d picked out?  
  
  
  
The click of the front door sounded loud. Was it always this loud? Or maybe it was just that the silence seemed a whole lot more silent than usual and so any noise… “Mmmph.” Liam was kissing her. She’d pretty much want… expected that, but still – shouldn’t she stop him? Shouldn’t she do a little more sleeping tonight, after all, and a lot less… naughty, naked stuff?  
  
Then Liam’s hands began moving over her body and… you know, sleep was really overrated. She’d always gotten along just fine on three or four hours and yeah, okay, sex was tiring, but there were all those endorphins which totally compensated, right? She began kissing Liam back, letting her own hands do some wandering.  
  
His body was really amazing. She’d never, ever thought she’d be with a guy like him, though, admittedly, she’d also never _wanted_ a guy like him before. She’d always been more about personality than physique. Did this make her shallow? Being with someone as perfectly-sculpted as Liam? Because, hey, it really wasn’t the way his body _looked_ that got her all hot and bothered. Nope, it was the amazing things he _did_ with it.  
  
It had been a long, long time since Liam had craved sex the way he was craving it with Willow. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d never wanted it this badly – not even in the old days in Ireland when drinking and wenching were the only things he had cared about in the whole world. They needed to take this upstairs.  
  
They were there in a trice, clothes being shed along the way. Willow’s desire excited him; he knew, after all, that he was the only one for whom she’d ever been this eager. It was his touch, _his_ , which had awoken her sexuality. Not that mangy Oz or that vile cretin, Xander.   
  
Their hands were all over each other and Liam was about to maneuver Willow onto the bed when she stunned him by descending to her knees. “I sort of thought I’d… I mean, I’ve never, but would you like me to try…?”  
  
Her awkward offer made him harder than he thought he’d ever be and he was incapable of speech. She was absolutely perfect. So he smiled at her and nodded as he cupped her cheeks in his hands. Then she took him in her mouth.  
  
She’d always wondered why they called this a ‘blow job’ when you didn’t actually blow, but now wasn’t one of her thinkiest times. Well, okay, she _was_ thinking, but it was more about technique and about how really _big_ Liam was and how that whole ‘deep throat’ thing was so not going to happen, at least not the first time. As hard as she tried to relax her throat muscles, she was only able to get so far and then she gagged. Oh god. Did that ruin it for him? She looked up, but his head was thrown back and his eyes were closed and he was smiling and he still seemed really… hard, so she kept going, letting her mouth slide up and down, up and down. She started to caress the part that she couldn’t fit and he moaned. Okay, so that was a good idea. She was getting the hang of this. It felt – weirdly good and powerful, being able to please him like this. It was kind of a turn on.   
  
The warmth of her mouth, the feel of those sweet lips sliding over his length – it was incredible. _Willow_ was incredible. He wound his hands in her hair and began to gently guide her… or as gently as he could. She was driving him to the brink of blissful madness. “So good,” he groaned as she took just a little bit more of his length than before. He wasn’t going to last much longer.  
  
Tightening his grip on her head, he urged her to pick up the pace. “That’s it, that’s it.” He drove into her mouth with more force and she made little choking sounds, but he was almost there… almost… “Willow!” he cried out as he flooded her mouth with his release.  
  
Instinctively swallowing as Liam came, Willow felt that sense of power even more strongly than before. She’d done this, hadn’t she? Her first time and everything and Liam had really liked it. Wow. She felt womanly and sexy and like she was really good at something that didn’t involve school. It was neat.  
  
Liam pulled her to her feet and kissed her. Would it be weird for him, tasting his… you know? Guess it wasn’t because he was kissing her really passionately and she was getting lost in it and then…  
  
That had been absolutely extraordinary and Liam was still high from the experience, but not so caught up in the afterglow of his own sexual bliss not to want to return the favor. Besides, he wanted to show her that he could take care of her the same way she’d taken care of him. His mouth left hers and in a split second, she was on her back on the bed.   
  
Kissing his way down her body, he smiled against the smooth flesh of her thigh before moving between those beautiful, long legs and…  
  
“Oh!” Willow hadn’t actually expected this, even though, come to think of it, she should have. But while at first it was sort of weird and uncomfortable, it didn’t take long at all for it to feel really, really, _really_ good. Oral sex was just as great for women as it was for guys, huh. Liam did the most amazing things ever with his tongue and… okay, her brain was signing off for the night and going to sleep. She was going to be going it alone from here on out. Which was just fine. Thinking was totally overrated and completely unnecessary. Oh god. Oh god. This felt… amazing.  
  
The sound of Willow’s gasps and moans was music and the taste of her was delicious. The only thing that bothered him and detracted from the pleasure was that falsely virginal scent which covered her like an ugly, old coat. It was necessary, however, and he concentrated on those senses of his which could delight in their coupling. His ears and tongue could drink in enough ecstasy to compensate for what his olfactory sense denied him.   
  
He wasn’t the only one, after all, whose ecstasy was involved. Willow was writhing under his ministrations; he gripped her thighs tightly to still her.   
  
“Oh god!” Willow cried as she came apart. This was… this was… Wow. Liam was incredible. What he’d just done for her. She panted, feeling weightless and yet immobile at the same time. It seemed like every time she was with Liam, it just kept getting better. Could it keep going like this? How much better could it possibly get?  
  
And yes, she really, really wanted to find out. Still out of breath and with her eyes closed, Willow felt Liam move up and then…  
  
Oh yes. He was inside her now. She was going to find out about that whole ‘how much better’ thing, wasn’t she?  
  
  
  
It was a bright, clear, blue sky morning and Willow was tired and kinda sore – but very, very happy – as she made her way to school. You know, sex was pretty wonderful, wasn’t it? Of course, just as she was about to whistle or something, her brain decided it was time to wake up and reengage and all kinds of thinky thoughts burst through the orgasm-dam and… This was so, so much more complicated than just all the really neat feelings.   
  
Sighing, she wished she could have stayed in her thought-free bubble, but she knew she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t Xander – thinking was pretty much a given with her. It was amazing that she’d gone without it for as long as she had. Well, there had been the brief moment where she’d asked Liam if the glamour was still working. Did that count as thinking? Probably. So she’d been intermittent rather than strictly thought-free. That was strangely comforting. As depressing as thinking could be, she was used to it and the last thing she wanted was to turn into some cognitively-impaired type like Harmony.   
  
Thinking was of the good.  
  
Except that right now what she was thinking was that she had no idea how to deal with all of this. Had she ever lied to her friends? Really lied? No. But she was doing it now, wasn’t she? Because you could split hairs until they could be measured in nanometers, but lying by omission was still lying and hey – the scent-changing spell was also a big lie and not by omission at all.  
  
Oh god. She was skanky and awful, wasn’t she?  
  
But then again, what would telling the truth do? It would hurt people – Buffy-type people in particular. Also Oz-type people, and just because they’d broken up, that didn’t mean that Willow wanted to rub his nose in the fact that she’d pretty much hopped right into bed – or, to be perfectly accurate, onto couch – with Liam.   
  
Plus, it would be really bad for morale at a time when they all needed to hang together to bring down the Mayor and Faith and stop the Ascension.  
  
So okay, lying did not necessarily have to be a bad thing. Especially in this case. Anyway, didn’t the fact that she felt guilty about it constitute penance?  
  
Okay, she’d better get herself together because Buffy was right there. She was sort of surprised since she’d left her house early this morning and hadn’t expected to run into Buffy at all.   
  
Great. Buffy had left her house almost half an hour early, hoping she’d be able to avoid talking to Willow until she had downed a lot more caffeine. “Hey, Will,” she chirped, sounding a lot like Willow on that very stimulant. “You’re out bright and early.” Did that sound as guilty as she thought it did? Because she sure felt that way. But what she also felt was a really overwhelming need for the comfort and understanding she could only get from her best friend – the one who wasn’t Xander.   
  
“I ran into Angel last night,” she began haltingly and feeling more guilty than before. “He… You were right. Not just what you said, but the stuff I know you wanted to say. It wasn’t the clothes. He just …can’t be with me.”  
  
Seconds later, Willow had her arms around her and Buffy was crying – right there on the sidewalk in the light of day. She didn’t like being so openly emotional, but she couldn’t help it. It hurt. Through all the other things in her life – the Mayor, taking Oz to the prom, college… Oh. She suddenly realized… “Guess I can go to Northwestern now after all, huh?”  
  
Willow’s heart ached for her best friend. For once, academic achievement didn’t seem to be the bright , shining star in every sky, because Willow knew that Buffy would be happy to spend the rest of her life working at the Doublemeat Palace if it meant having Angel by her side. The only plus Willow could really see was that this proved that her lying was one hundred percent right, but that was very cold comfort compared to Buffy’s heartbreak. Her best friend was crying in public, something Buffy just didn’t do, and it only showed just how much pain she was in.   
  
“Wanna ditch today? We could go to the mall.”  
  
What? Willow had said what? “You wanna skip school? Who are you and what have you done with Willow?” Her guilt now increased. Willow was willing to skip school for her. Still, how could she say no? She dried her eyes and offered Willow a sniffly smile. “Just for that, I will buy you a mocha – all the caffeine you could possibly desire, in fact.”  
  
Linking her arm with Willow’s, she turned them both in the direction of the Espresso Pump.  
  
It seemed like no time before they were downtown and Willow was eagerly anticipating some caffeinated goodness. As they passed April Fool’s, she turned to Buffy with what she was sure would be yet another great idea. “Hey! Since we’re both…” Okay, that was about to be tactless. She paused and tried to think of a nice, diplomatic way to say what she wanted to say. “Since we both need a prom date, want to go with me? We might even cause some gossip,” she offered, mock-flirtatiously.  
  
Buffy’s reaction was not exactly what Willow had expected. Her face… was that colour green? Yeah, that would be green. Did Buffy think… “I wasn’t making a pass at you. I promise,” she hastily exclaimed. "I..." She tried for a distraction. "Hey, did Xander tell you he's taking Anya?" It didn’t seem to help. Buffy was even greener. Of course, that was also _her_ reaction when she's found out who Xander's date was, but... No, Buffy's green was a very different green. What was wrong?  
  
She was about to find out.  
  
“I… Willow, I, uh, I already have a date.” Really? That was fast. Hadn’t she just broken up with Angel last night? But before Willow could think about it anymore, Buffy dropped the final bombshell. “I’m… I’m sort of going with Oz.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	40. Chapter Thirty-Nine

Feral (Chapter Thirty-Nine)  
  
  
  
“I’m sort of going with Oz.”  
  
Buffy’s words roared in Willow’s ears. Sure, she had been the one to break up with Oz, and yes, she’d had sex – kind of a lot of sex – with Liam, but… It was really weird and… yeah, okay, this was really hypocritical, but she was sort of upset. She didn’t think she was jealous, but… Maybe. She shouldn’t be. She didn’t have any right to be. But maybe. Yeah, maybe she was a little bit jealous.  
  
She knew it was wrong though, so she did her best to conjure up a smile. “Oh. Well that’s okay then. Anyway, I’m kind of done with the whole ‘formalwear’ thing after my recent trip to the dark side.” She grinned more broadly, playing everything off, though the evocation of her fluking with Xander hit kind of uncomfortably close to her new – and naughty – home.   
  
“Sure you’re not mad?” Buffy searched her friend’s face for any sign that she was angry, but she didn’t see any. Wow. Willow was nicer than _she_ was. She’d freaked out over Angel _pretending_ to like Faith. Speaking of Angel… what was _he_ going to think? If he ever found out, that was, because maybe he wouldn’t… Or maybe she wanted him to. It was stupid and petty and childish, but yeah, she wanted him to be jealous.  
  
Time to stop with the thinking, though, because Willow was talking. She needed to listen. “Oz and I broke up. Which I guess you pretty much knew or you wouldn’t have said yes when he invited you, and…”  
  
“I asked him,” Buffy interjected, not sure if she should or not but wanting to be honest.  
  
You know, that kind of made Willow feel better. It was the weirdest thing yet, but… “Oh. Well it’s still totally a-okay. I promise.” At least her smile was more sincere now. Because she totally got why Buffy would ask him…  
  
And then she thought about it more.  
  
She didn’t need this right now – being angry at Buffy and Oz all over again for the whole ‘Liam’ thing and for talking behind her back and thinking she was gullible and stupid – but there it was. If only she could get away, be by herself for a little while to get her head straightened out; she couldn’t, though. She’d offered to ditch with Buffy and if she bailed now, Buffy would think she was mad, and even though she kind of was, she shouldn’t be, and she didn’t want Buffy to think… Everything was really messed up, wasn’t it?  
  
Oh look! They were right in front of the Espresso Pump. “Hey, I think someone promised me caffeinated, sugary goodness.” She linked arms with Buffy and practically dragged her through the door of Sunnydale’s alternative to Starbuck’s. Mochas might not be the answer, but after a couple of them, she’d be too wired to care about the question.  
  
  
  
It wasn’t the first time, but Angel really wished the tunnels could take him to Willow’s house. He was lonely and frankly, it would be nice to spend some time talking to Liam. They hadn’t really gotten the chance to get to know each other and Angel realized he had so many questions. What had Liam’s life been like? Had it been just like his? He knew the man hadn’t been attracted to Buffy, but what about Darla? Drusilla? Spike? How had he become friends with Ted?  
  
How had he fallen in love with Willow?  
  
That last was a question he’d asked himself before, on more than one occasion, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still plague him a bit, differently, perhaps, as well, though he couldn’t see why.   
  
But dammit, it didn’t make sense… or maybe the problem was that it did in ways that made him think that Liam was better than he was – not as shallow or self-centered.   
  
Those other questions nagged at him as well. What had happened to the Darla from Liam’s world? Spike? Dru? Had Darla sided with the Master in Liam’s world as well? Had she been the one to deliver him into the hands of Willow and Xander? Why had Liam so easily seen the goodness in the Willow from this world while it seemed he still loathed Xander – not, of course, that Angel really blamed him on that score. Even as a human, Xander was as annoying as all get out and his personality therefore was not likely inclined to make Liam forgive him for the transgressions of his demonic counterpart… whatever they were. What had Xander done in that other world? For that matter, what had…  
  
Willow.   
  
The wheels in his head kept turning right back to her, no matter onto what tangents he spun himself off.   
  
It just seemed important somehow.   
  
He was starting to feel jealous of Xander for one thing – that dull but enviably idle brain of his. It might be quite pleasurable to spend at least a moment without being beset by questions or guilt or that mixture of both on which his mind so often fed.   
  
Here he was, however, awash in questions to which he had no ready source of answers. Tonight, he’d make sure to sit down with Liam and ask.  
  
Waiting… he was used to it, of course, but he was still amazingly unsuited to it temperamentally. Centuries passed and yet how much had he really changed? Oh sure, the drinking and disembowelment had both been left behind and he had been used to fancying that his soul – that basted-on scrap of fragile humanity – had elevated him to something far beyond even what he’d been as a human being, but what if…  
  
What if Liam was better than he was? _He_ after all, had obviously found some greater inducement than a sexy teenage girl to join the fight here in Sunnydale. Had Liam already been working toward redemption? Had he ever lived in alleys? Eaten rats?  
  
Questions… more questions. Would Liam even answer them? Angel wondered about that. It wasn’t as if they’d ever really had a comfortable conversation. He’d tried, but Liam hadn’t seemed… Of course, that was really Angel’s fault, wasn’t it? That business with pretending to be Angelus and not warning Liam probably hadn’t faded away entirely, and how could he blame his counterpart for that? How would Angel feel if someone made him believe he was back in Hell?   
  
Maybe he should try his approach with Willow in the room. Liam trusted her – loved her – and he might feel safer, more willing to open up, with her there. Yes, that was the ticket. That would have to lead to him at least learning something… something…  
  
  
  
Today had been fun – well, fun with a side order of awkward and really, really spazzy thanks to Willow’s consumption of four mochas – but still fun. It had been way too long since she and Willow had just goofed off together. In fact, Buffy couldn’t actually remember just goofing off with her best friend. Research sessions and patrol weren’t exactly the same as just plain fun and the Bronze… she was honest enough to admit that she always had a better time there than Willow did. At least when the Dingoes weren’t playing.  
  
Of course, watching Oz wouldn’t be so much of the boyfriend-y goodness for Willow anymore. And yes, speaking of awkward, he would be attending the prom on Buffy’s arm. But hey, in her defense, Willow had done the breaking-up, which made this totally different than if Oz had been the one to end things and anyway, Willow had said more than once that she was completely okay with Buffy going to the prom with him so…  
  
Why did she feel guilty?  
  
It wasn’t just the Willow thing, was it? No, it sure wasn’t. That extra scoop of self-hatred? It was because she was hoping deep down that taking Oz to the prom would make Angel jealous – at least jealous enough to hurt and, in her wildest dreams, jealous enough to want her back and decide to stay in Sunnydale.  
  
Oh god. She was really a bad person, wasn’t she?   
  
Good thing she was already doing self-imposed penance. Sending your over-caffeinated best friend home to come down from her mocha high? Check. Heading to the library to do research and try to find out if you got in any trouble for ditching? Check.  
  
Arriving at said library only to find Giles and Xander nowhere in sight, leaving you to face…  
  
“Where have you been today? Do you realize the awkward position in which you placed me? I’m your Watcher and you are the Slayer. You can’t just go gallivanting about. I must know where you are at all times.”   
  
Yep. That was another item checked off. She was feeling all penance-y already.  
  
  
  
Willow was bouncing off the walls – well, _sidewalks_ – and her thoughts were caroming around her head like big rubber balls. Big, shiny, annoying rubber balls that she couldn’t grab to make them stop bouncing so she could even think about her thoughts and…  
  
Was this anything like drugs? Because it sure felt wacky. She knew she shouldn’t have had that fourth mocha. She’d never had four mochas in a row before. There needed to be one of those Just Say No campaigns for caffeine. With bumper stickers and PSA’s and celebrity spokespeople and…  
  
Yeah, her thoughts were still pretty bouncy, weren’t they?  
  
Oh gosh! This was the second time she’d meant to go home but found herself right on Angel’s doorstep. At least this time she had kind of a good excuse though, huh.   
  
Did she really want to do this? She was probably really annoying right now. Buffy had seemed pretty darn eager to send her home instead of taking her along to do research, after all. And honestly, she was even bugging herself, what with the ping-pong-y thoughts. Angel would probably end up hating her within minutes.  
  
But then her thoughts settled into something like clarity for a moment. She was a total spazz right now and who knew what she might say… and wouldn’t that maybe be a good thing? Because she was feeling just plain horrible about the fact that she knew stuff about Angel’s curse that he didn’t know and wasn’t it possible that she’d drop a hint or something in her current condition? Especially since Buffy had told her he was planning to leave town.  
  
Hey! What was up with that anyway? Because he hadn’t mentioned that to _her_. She thought they were friends now, but maybe not since didn’t friends tell each other when they were gonna do stuff like…oh… leave town forever?  
  
Now that she thought about it, she was sort of mad at Angel, so much so that she didn’t even knock, she just barged right into his house. “You’re leaving town?”  
  
Angel was startled by Willow’s dramatic entrance, but he rose quickly, angry at himself – and wasn’t that a familiar experience? – for not having informed her himself. She was his closest friend and she deserved to have heard the news firsthand. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you…”  
  
She didn’t seem to have heard him, or if she did, she didn’t care. No, she just barreled along. “I can’t believe you! I thought we were friends! Guess not, ‘cause hey – you were just gonna pack up and leave without saying anything to me. Am I not good enough to know stuff or something?” Her words were punctuated by wild gestures and she was pacing at a speed which nearly made him dizzy. If he didn’t know her better, he’d suspect cocaine. But no, not Willow…  
  
Wait. Buffy had told him once that Willow reacted very violently to caffeine. Could that be it? He walked over to her and took her arm, both to stop her from moving and… She smelled exactly the same as she had the other day. And not in the way a person’s scent always stayed true, but in an impossible way, devoid of any of the subtle variations which should have been caused by the fabric she wore, her shampoo… coffee. What the hell was going on?  
  
“What’s wrong with you?”  
  
Shoot! She should have just gone home. Because she was completely bonkers and caffeine-spazzed right now and she’d made Angel mad – which maybe balanced things out since she was kind of mad at him too, but still… “Buffy and I went out for mochas,” she croaked out, cowed by Angel’s really intense expression.   
  
Okay, she’d answered him, so why did he still look like he was mad… and trying to figure something out?  
  
“I don’t smell any coffee.”  
  
“I… I drank it about half an hour ago, so maybe…”  
  
“I don’t smell any coffee,” he repeated, “and you smell exactly the same as you smelled the other day. Exactly.” His eyes were boring into hers. “That isn’t possible.”  
  
Oh no. The glamour. How was she going to get out of this? “Oh that? It was…” Excuse… excuse… she needed to think of… “I… I didn’t have time to shower this morning so I did a glamour so I wasn’t all skanky and…”  
  
Glamour… She’d done a glamour. But she was lying about the reason and Angel knew it. Because she’d done this spell far earlier than this morning. This was why she had smelled of cotton when she was wearing angora. “You did this spell days ago,” he said, softening his tone. She’d done it the day after her kidnapping and he wondered… no… no… she couldn’t have been… not while she was being held captive. But it could have, and he had to ask. Taking her hand, he looked into her eyes. “What happened to you?”  
  
  
  
  
Oz’s arrival could not have been more welcome. Wesley was always uncomfortable around Oz and her soon-to-be-sort-of-date’s presence at least got him to shut up. “Hey,” she chirped. Oz walked right over to where she sat at one of the library tables, ignoring Wesley as he pretty much always did.  
  
“Hey.” His face was unreadable, but that wasn’t exactly unusual and somehow it didn’t bug her the way it did when she had no clue what Angel was thinking. Of course, the fact that she wasn’t in love with Oz probably had a whole lot to do with that.  
  
She figured she should update him on who knew what, so, since there was no way Wesley was leaving anytime soon, she came up with the tried and true idea of a convenient pretext. “Want to help me pick out a soda?”  
  
Despite quirking an eyebrow at her, Oz offered no objections and followed her out into the now-empty hall. “Do you normally find beverages this challenging?”   
  
Bonus points for the witty riposte. “No. Just needed a reason to get away from Wesley and… I kind of have something to tell you.” She took a deep breath. “I talked to Willow today and I told her. About us going to the prom.”  
  
“I figured you would.” Oz’s face was still unreadable.  
  
“You mad?” She was genuinely curious since the monotone and blank face weren’t big on revealing anything. “Because I would have asked you first except she kind of invited me to go with her today and I had to tell her why I couldn’t.” There went the eyebrow again. Yes, Oz was actually a typical guy at times, it seemed. She ignored it. “Anyway, she’s totally cool with it.”  
  
Was that a flicker of…? Oh.  
  
Yes it was, and Buffy realized once again how much she’d never thought about the fact that under that mild exterior of his, Oz was a real person with deep feelings and insecurities and the occasional moment of pettiness, just like anyone else… including her.   
  
He wanted Willow to be jealous.  
  
“Of course, she might only have been saying that since I promised her mochas,” she offered, trying to backpedal believably. And hey, it could be true. “She'd probably say just about anything for four mochas.”  
  
“Four?” Maybe she shouldn’t have added that since it was clear by the look in his eyes that Oz was kind of fond of spazzy, hyper, caffeine-buzzy Willow and his mind was playing back memory after memory. Her heart hurt for him because she knew how he felt. She was pretty nostalgic for Angel right now.  
  
“Some people drown their sorrows in alcohol…” That was weak and she knew it, so she decided to take a page from the werewolf playbook and just shut up. So instead of letting her foot move back into its old room behind her back molars, she headed for the vending machines, Oz by her side. She might just add a candy bar or some chips to that soda she was planning to buy. After all, she was polite enough not to talk with her mouth full. Right now, not talking seemed like a good thing.  
  
  
  
“Happened?” Willow was in full-scale panic mode. She was too caffeinated to think straight and her glamour seemed to have failed on a pretty grand scale. One thing seemed clear – Angel thought something bad had happened to her. Was he blaming Liam?  
  
Oh god. What if he was? What if he thought Liam had done something to her and that’s what she was covering up? “It’s not what you think, okay? He didn’t hurt me.” She could feel her face turning scarlet. She so did not want to be having this conversation right now.  
  
“Who didn’t hurt you?” Angel was confused, especially since her deepening blush seemed to convey that the reason for the glamour was some sort of… intimacy. Had she made love with Oz? And if she had, why would she conceal that fact with a glamour? “What do you mean?”  
  
“Liam,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world and now Angel was completely lost, because of course they couldn’t have… “He and I… we sort of…” Her face flamed so brightly that it seemed to make further speech painful, but he didn’t actually need her to finish her sentence.  
  
What kind of… “What were you thinking?” he cried as he grabbed her arms and shook her. “You risked… My god! Do we even know that he still has his soul? How could you be so…”  
  
“I’m not stupid!” Willow shot back, still feeling the residual pain of very similar sentiments expressed by Buffy and Oz. “For your information, it’s not just happiness that makes you lose your soul. You have to forget you’re a demon. Liam didn’t forget that with me.”  
  
Angel let go of her suddenly and she almost fell over. “The curse… it’s not…” He sat down heavily on the couch and the full import of what she’d just done hit Willow like a truck. Her buzz was gone. Now she had a whole lot of explaining to do.  
  
Liam was going to be so angry with her.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	41. Chapter Forty

Feral (Chapter Forty)  
  
  
  
“I’m sorry.” It was pretty inadequate, but right now it was the best Willow had. Angel looked… she didn’t know _what_ he looked like except that it was a kind of sad and painful something that made her heart ache. She should have just gone home today and later found the right way to tell him. Okay, she had no idea what the right way might have been, but she knew for a fact it wasn’t this one.   
  
“How long have you known?” It was Angel asking the question, but his voice sounded hollow and unfamiliar.  
  
“Just… just since the night… the night Liam and I… you know. Liam found the curse on the computer I gave him and he… he figured it out.”  
  
Angel sighed, some of his sense of betrayal dissipating. She’d only known for a couple of days.   
  
It was the truth, too, what she’d said about the curse. He’d known immediately. It hadn’t taken him three seconds to realize that, contrary to his initial terrible fear, Liam could not have lost his soul – while _his_ demon didn’t hold the personal grudge that Angel’s demon probably did, he’d have turned Willow immediately to keep her from ever re-ensouling him. And no glamour of which she was capable could ever have concealed that transformation from him.  
  
He could be happy… Angel could be happy… except.  
  
“Buffy,” he said softly. “It was because…”  
  
Oh how Willow wanted to soften the blow, but how could she do it without lying to him? “I guess her being a Slayer, making you feel human…”   
  
“I forgot I was a demon. I lost my soul,” he finished.  
  
“Yeah.” She sat beside him and put her hand over his. “I know I should have told you right away, it was just…”  
  
“You only just found out,” he said, and it did make her feel better. Guess a day or two wasn’t _that_ bad, right? Boy was it good that her caffeine high had crashed because she really didn’t think he needed to know that Liam hadn’t wanted to tell him anytime soon. Which hey, in Liam’s defense, had made sense, especially since when they’d decided this Angel hadn’t broken up with Buffy, so it wasn’t like they’d done this to be mean or unkind, just the opposite, in fact, it was just…  
  
Oh heck. Was there any right and wrong she could just count on to be absolutely true, to be black and white for everyone all the time? Why did everything have to be so grey and changeable and stuff?   
  
Angel put his other hand over Willow’s. “It’s okay. I get that this isn’t something you want everyone to know. I’m not going to tell Buffy. Or anyone. It isn’t anyone’s business anyway.” As the other part of it, the part that wasn’t about his soul, sank in, Angel wasn’t sure he was so glad to know either. He had a hard enough time dealing with Liam’s feelings for Willow, the fact that she shared them, had even let Liam take her virginity? That felt odd and strange and…  
  
She’d never once evinced even the slightest feminine interest in _him_ , so how could she be in love with Liam? He wasn’t _jealous_ , it was just… Oh hell, he had no idea what it was. He did hate it though.  
  
Getting back to the curse, however, there, too, he was finding discomfort, to say the least. If he’d fallen for someone else… someone who wasn’t Buffy… Jenny Calendar might be glowering at him to this day. He’d have never been to Hell. He’d have never broken Buffy’s heart. He’d have never…  
  
But he _had_ fallen in love with Buffy. It had been real and true and… a mistake. He once would have called it a mistake he had made gladly, but now, and even before he’d known what he just learned… No, he wasn’t sure at all anymore. Maybe that was why his thoughts ping-ponged right back to… “How did this happen? You and Liam?”  
  
  
  
Buffy hid her yawn behind the book she was reading, wishing she had just gone home. She was starting to think literacy was way overrated. Not like they were finding anything in these stupid books. Of course, Oz wasn’t having any better luck on the internet.   
  
“Willow’s pages giving us anything yet?” she whined, hating herself the second the ‘W’ word left her mouth. Oz’s expression didn’t change, but it wasn’t like that meant much.  
  
“There are certainly some clues, but it would be much more helpful if we knew into which demon the Mayor was going to transform,” Giles sighed, oblivious to the angst in the room. For a Watcher, he sure had tunnel vision, though Buffy guessed maybe that was the point.  
  
“Of course, all of this would be moot if we still had the Box of Gavrok.” Thanks for that, Wesley. Before you spoke, you’d almost passed for human.  
  
“Yes, well, if _your_ precious Faith hadn’t turned traitor and murderer and gotten the Books of Ascension for the Mayor…”  
  
“Why do all of you gang up on Wesley? It’s not like any of this is his fault.” Great. Now Cordelia was here.  
  
“Try not to speak while you’re drooling, Cordelia. Saliva and old books? Not much with the mix-y.” Wow. Oz sort of almost smiled. Buffy fought not to preen. Even heartbroken and research-fatigued, she still had her quip mojo. That was something, right? With any luck this would develop into a nice opportunity to flex her repartee muscles.  
  
“What-ever.” That was Cordelia’s idea of a comeback? Not very inspiring of the witty banter. “I just thought I’d come here and see if you losers needed any help, which I’m sure you do.”  
  
Wesley straightened his collar and reddened before stuttering out. “Yes, well, I… that is, _we_ would welcome your assistance.” Cordelia gave him the cheesiest of her many cheesy grins and Buffy noticed Oz put his hand over his mouth. Was he laughing? Okay. Buffy was willing to lose out on the chance to crack wise since Oz was still enjoying himself. He deserved it.   
  
Anyway, it was nice to think of Cordelia suffering right along with her. “Sit right down and pull up a book,” she offered. Wesley blushed again as Cordelia shot him the most obvious ‘surreptitious look’ ever. This time, Buffy was the one who covered her mouth to hide a smirk. At least now she wouldn’t be _totally_ bored.  
  
  
  
More than ever, Liam hated daylight. School was out, but Willow was undoubtedly still in the library researching and he was stuck here – trapped by bars as insubstantial as air, but more secure than steel. He was bored and lonely and frustrated and, while those were certainly better feelings than what he’d known so recently in his own world, he still disliked them.  
  
At least he could look forward to enjoying her in bed tonight. That was some recompense… and it was recompense indeed, for much more than just enervating days.  
  
It was almost impossible, how very different his Willow was from the creature who carried her name in the world from which she herself had rescued him. He knew from Willow that Buffy and Angel had considered their pathetic excuse for ‘love’ to be destiny, but no, that word was a far better fit for himself and Willow. It was almost… no, not almost, it _was_ worth every moment of pain and torment he’d endured to know the softness of her skin, the sweetness of her smile… the heat of her body.  
  
For a moment, he felt a pang as he thought of how anguished Darla would be, knowing that he could love someone – a human, especially – in a way he’d never been able to love her. Perhaps it was a blessing that she’d…  
  
No, he couldn’t see it that way, especially since her life had been lost for his cause – and at the hand of her own sire. And the fact that Angel had slain this world’s counterpart of his fallen creator? That Liam still found himself unable to forgive.  
  
The same, of course, went for Ted. Ted, who would certainly have been so happy for Liam and Willow. He was sure even this world’s version would have been. He smiled sadly, thinking of the cookies and pizza the man – he couldn’t think of Ted as anything else – would have baked for them, the gentle advice he’d have offered, the fun he and Willow would have had sharing hacker stories and arguing good-naturedly over which programs were better.  
  
Thanks to Buffy, of course, those were pipe dreams, and it wasn’t as if he’d ever see the Ted from his own world again, if he was even still… alive. What was happening there now? Who’d won the battle?   
  
Did he really care? The humans there had all failed him, been weak, resigned themselves to their fate or turned themselves into pathetic martyrs. His hometown Buffy had lost her life with deplorable ease. The only being left there he cared about at all was Ted.   
  
If only Willow were here to distract him from all these depressing, angry thoughts. She was like sunshine, lighting up the darkness in his mind. He sighed and headed into the kitchen, sighing again when he looked in the refrigerator and realized he was down to his last bag of blood. Well, that didn’t change the fact that he needed to eat, so he poured the contents into a mug and stuck it in the microwave. Guess he was making a Willie’s run tonight.  
  
  
  
Had she revealed a little too much information? She’d tried to be very careful about the mentions of s-e-x, but Angel was looking at her funny so Willow wasn’t sure if she’d been sufficiently discreet. The caffeine buzz might not be all the way gone and she wasn’t exactly the most careful speaker on her best days and… yeah, she was a little paranoid at the moment. “It just sort of happened,” she finished lamely, pretty sure she’d already made that same statement earlier and more appropriately. Did it actually connect to anything she’d said in the last minute or so? Angel was still staring and she was really worried.  
  
Angel had no idea what to think or how to feel. She’d stumbled clumsily, trying hard not to talk about any details, but he got the impression…   
  
Willow had been a more eager and enthusiastic lover than he would have expected, if the ‘then we went upstairs’ meant what he thought it did and her blush had been more than sufficient confirmation that it did. She’d gone through the ordeal of that kidnapping, she’d been a virgin, and she wasn’t even the Slayer. It was… surprising… unnerving… It made him wonder.  
  
Willow’s voice broke through his tumultuous thoughts.  
  
“You’re really not gonna say anything, are you?” Yes, okay, they’d already covered this, but now that Willow couldn’t tell what he was thinking, she wasn’t so sure.   
  
Then he glowered at her and it was obvious she’d offended him. Great job, Willow. “Of course I won’t.”  
  
“I’m sorry. My mouth gets ahead of my brain sometimes and… did I mention the four mochas I had?” She tried her best to sound as conciliatory and apologetic as she could, and she was being sincere. Especially since Angel didn’t really owe her any favours and it was probably wrong, now that she thought about it, to ask him to keep secrets for her.   
  
Her placatory manner brought Angel up short. She had every right to be concerned. In the past, and the not so distant past at that, his loyalty had always been to Buffy and Buffy alone. How easy was it for her to adjust to things being different and to seeing him as her true friend? Not very, he was sure, though it suddenly occurred to him to wonder about that since she was so close… so _very_ close to…  
  
He was jealous, wasn’t he, though that made no sense. He couldn’t begrudge Liam his only friend and on the other subject, he…  
  
The truth was that he had no idea what he was feeling. Looking at Willow, it was as if he’d never seen her before – and in a way, he hadn’t. She was a sexual being now, wasn’t she? Not the naïve innocent he’d known. A part of him wanted to demand that she undo the glamour immediately, to shed the stale disguise in which she’d cloaked her transformation, but he knew he wouldn’t… _shouldn’t_. He caught himself staring into her eyes and what he saw there was unsettling enough. There was… something. It was knowing and womanly in a way of which he wasn’t sure she was yet aware, but it was there. The little girl was gone. Forever. “Are you happy?” he suddenly asked.  
  
Huh? Willow found herself blushing again even though she wasn’t sure what Angel meant or how to answer him. “Sure. Of course I am. I mean I guess so… I…” What _did_ he mean? “Liam didn’t hurt me or anything. Honest. He was…,” she blushed again, but blurted out, “great.”  
  
Angel looked away and Willow realized that was probably a whole lot more than he wanted to know. “I’m sorry,” she said, for about the eighteenth time. “But hey, at least now you know that _you_ can be happy too. Someday. I know it’ll take time, ‘cause you and Buffy just… but you’ll meet someone else. I know you will. And as long as they aren’t a Slayer or someone who makes you forgot the whole demon thing, then you’ll totally be able to… be as happy as you want.” What do you know? Tact Girl showed up to save the day at the end.  
  
Sadly, she didn’t have a very long feel-good moment. Guess the caffeine buzz was abating even further because she suddenly felt more awkward and uncomfortable than before. It hit her that Liam – the guy with whom she’d been having a whole lot of naughty fun – had been Angel in his own world and… okay, this was squicking her severely. Because there was no way she could ever, ever imagine having sex with Angel, but she’d done it with a _version_ of him and…   
  
A feeling of nausea overwhelmed her; she couldn’t stop herself from wondering, right here with Angel next to her, if he and Liam were alike when it came to… you know… Oh god. Could the Hellmouth just please open up right here and swallow her whole? “I should really be getting home.”  
  
The absence of a change in Willow’s scent made it difficult for Angel to understand the reason for her suddenly apparent discomfort. How did humans manage with so few cues on which to base their reactions to each other? No wonder they needed to talk about their feelings so much. For a very disquieting moment, he felt superior and questioned his own longing for humanity.   
  
Or maybe she wasn’t uncomfortable at all, at least not in the way he’d thought. Maybe she just… No. he wasn’t ready for the idea of Willow with appetites. At least not the kind which involved anything but food.  
  
She had them, though, didn’t she? He’d heard that truth in the timbre of her voice when she’d described Liam as ‘great’. That meant much more than him being considerate and not selfish or clumsy and he well knew it. There was a huskiness in her tone…  
  
How had Buffy described _him_? Had she talked to Willow about what happened? Sharing it the way he knew girls shared their secrets? Did she even think about their one and only night together? About the way he’d touched her, made love to her? Or had she been unable to separate their one coupling from the nightmare of him losing his soul?   
  
What would it be like with his next lover? Would she be a virgin, like Buffy? Or would she be experienced?   
  
His thoughts stunned him. How could he think about that? It was so soon… so soon.   
  
He needed to talk - not because he felt human, but because he felt less human now than ever and… he took hold of Willow’s hand as she was about to get up from the sofa. “Can you stay?”  
  
  
  
“Thanks for the ride,” Buffy was sort of getting used to the van. Yes, it was pretty grungy and she’d still rather walk than wear her prom dress in it, but it was… it was Oz and she could see why he drove it, above and beyond the band-equipment-stowage. But she still had a hard time making conversation with him, at least about topics other than emergencies and exes. Well there was always… “The Dingoes playing anywhere?”  
  
“Not ‘til after Graduation. I’ve kind of asked for some down time, what with the Ascension and all. Seemed like that was more important.”  
  
“Makes sense,” was all Buffy said, but inside she was struck by how committed Oz was to helping them. She’d always seen him as mostly just hanging around because of Willow, and because he was a werewolf. Boy had she been wrong and she felt like a jerk. A self-centered jerk. She really needed to say something. “Thank you. It helps, you know, having you on the research and all. You’re smart.” Was that the best she could do? ‘You’re smart’? He sort of smiled, though. That was good.  
  
They were in front of her house now and she didn’t want to end on such a lame note. She and Oz were friends and she wanted to do a better job of acting like it. Besides, she figured he was probably as eager to spend the evening alone as she was. “Hey. My Mom’s making meatloaf for dinner tonight. You wanna stay?” He nodded and turned off the engine. “You could patrol with me too. I could use the back-up.” He gave her that sort of smile again. Looked like she wasn’t a total jerk after all.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	42. Chapter Forty-One

Feral (Chapter Forty-One)  
  
  
  
“It’s strange. Realizing that I can… I can have sex.” Angel gave a rueful little chuckle. Never had he imagined that he’d be sitting on his sofa with Willow, talking about anything so intimate. But here they were.  
  
The most unexpected part of it all was how… natural it felt. The ease with which he could open up to her. She had somehow become his closest friend, hadn’t she? Of course, there was also the matter of another close friend of hers. “Do you hate me?”  
  
Her eyes widened in shock and he had to admit to being both relieved and grateful to see that reaction. “Why would I?”  
  
“Because of Buffy. Because I’m already thinking about moving on.”  
  
Willow put her hand on his knee, hating that he felt guilty. Would he feel better if he knew…? “Buffy has a date to the prom.” Oh god. She’d just made it worse. Angel looked like she’d kicked his pu… kitten. She hastened to undue her clumsy damage. “It’s not really a date, actually. It’s a ‘two people who just broke up with their significant others cheering each other up’ kind of thing. She’s going with Oz.”  
  
Angel looked shocked for a moment, but then he seemed to take it in stride. Obviously, he didn’t think _she_ did, though. “Are you okay with that?”  
  
It was very kind of him to think of her feelings that way, wasn’t it? “It’s… well, it _was_ sort of weird, but I figure since I’m the one who did the breaking up and hey – I’ve had sex with someone else – I’m all accepting and everything.”  
  
At first Angel was focused on being glad that Willow wasn’t hurt, but then something about what she’d said struck him. The way she’d spoken of what happened between her and Liam… “You don’t love him.” He said the words without thinking and he wished he hadn’t, though the confused look on Willow’s face told him that he could always pretend that he’d been referring to Oz. He wasn’t going to though, because they were friends and he was learning that friends were honest with each other. She’d taught him that, hadn’t she? “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”  
  
He wasn’t talking about Oz, was he? She’d thought he was, until he apologized. Then she sort of got it. She wished she knew what to say. Maybe honesty? That might be good. She’d been a little spotty on the whole truth thing lately but Angel deserved it even if she couldn’t be entirely on the up and up with anyone else. “I don’t know,” she said and that was the first time she’d said that out loud. But she _didn’t_ know, did she? “I didn’t think I was even attracted to him, but then there was the kissing and then… right when we got home after… it all just happened. I don’t know, Angel.” The full weight – the _reality_ – of everything that had happened and everything she didn’t understand came down hard on her and she started to cry. “Shouldn’t I know? I’m supposed to know, aren’t I? Because you knew – with Buffy. You knew. Buffy knew. Liam knows… or he says he knows, which means he knows, right? But I don’t know.”  
  
Her tears turned to sobs and she felt Angel’s arms around her before she broke down completely.  
  
  
  
“So, Oz, have you decided where you’re going to college?”  
  
Come to think of it, her Mom hadn’t asked such a dumb question since Buffy was kinda curious about that herself. “I was sort of thinking maybe I’d stay here. Go to UC Sunnydale.” Oz was making a real effort to be conversational and once again Buffy found herself thinking that there was a lot more to him than she’d given him credit for.  
  
“That’s nice,” her Mom chirped. “Buffy’s been accepted there as well. And I’m sure you and Willow will do just fine – seeing each other on breaks and holidays and things.”  
  
Fighting the urge to groan or bang her head on the table, Buffy shut her eyes tight. When she opened them, Oz looked calm, but Buffy figured she’d missed something because her mother looked confused. It was just as well. Seeing Oz in pain was not a pleasant thing. “Willow and I aren’t together anymore,” Oz offered succinctly, quickly taking a large bite of meatloaf.  
  
“Yeah. There’s a whole ‘separate ways’ thing going on there, Mom. But hey, all is not lost, because he’s taking me to the prom.” Oh great, somewhere in the pithiness, the correct order of events failed to get communicated, because her Mom was staring at her and not in a good way. “They broke up first,” she hastened to clarify. “Oz and I are going there together because we each got dumped and…” Oops. Had she even told her Mom about the whole ‘Angel dumping her and being about to leave town’ thing? That wasn’t what really mattered though; nope, the main thing was that the blankness of Oz’s expression just flickered. She was so very not good at this. Dinner was going to be totally challenging –no way would she have room for mashed potatoes, what with the way her foot was jammed between her back molars. “Anyway, I asked him and he said yes so… we can pay for the limo, right?”  
  
  
  
Willow’s sobs were beginning to quiet, but Angel made no move to let her go. Her anguish affected him and he found himself getting lost in it. There was something… This didn’t make sense for her, did it? She had never been the sort of girl who was careless about affairs of the heart, even if she was passionate. After all, the indiscretion which had first sundered her relationship with Oz hadn’t been with just anyone, but with a boy she had – though unfathomably – loved before she’d ever met her wolf.  
  
Again, there was something… How could she have tumbled into this the way she had? He didn’t want to think… but Liam…  
  
No, no. Liam might be a different _version_ of him, but he knew – he _knew_ – that deep down they were so much the same. Their souls…  
  
Of course that also brought up his questions about Willow and her feelings… and his own feelings – the jealousy he didn’t understand, the…  
  
His head hurt.  
  
Angel had to be pretty fed up with her right now. Here she was, having just dropped a huge bombshell that changed his whole life, and what was she doing? Crying all over him and expecting sympathy. She was such a jerk. She was, in fact, the biggest jerk in the history of… jerkdom, or something like that. Making an effort to get herself under control, she started to pull away only to find it too difficult because Angel was holding her pretty tightly. Pushing would be rude, so she didn’t, but she said, “I’m okay now. Thanks.”  
  
“It’s dark,” Angel said, much to Willow’s confusion. As _non sequiturs_ went, it was pretty _non sequitur_ -y. But she decided not to mention that. No being rude to the guy whose shirt you just got all tear-soaked.  
  
“Yeah. Guess it’s nighttime.” He finally loosened his hold on her, so she sat up. “Hey, I’m not so caffeine-intoxicated anymore. That’s of the good.” Why had she said that? Was there a point? Beyond proving that Angel wasn’t the only one who could do the _non sequitur_ thing, anyway. “Wow, that was random, huh?”  
  
It seemed Angel wasn’t the only one experiencing discomfort and awkwardness and strangely, that actually eased both feelings, at least for him. “No, not really,” he offered with a smile. Then he surprised himself right back into discomfiture by reaching out and ruffling her hair.  
  
Again, he wasn’t alone in those feelings. Willow was clearly taken aback, but trying hard to hide it behind a desperately cheery grin. He’d never been one for gestures like that – not with friends. Though how would he know since he’d never really had any? Not like he’d degrade the name of ‘friend’ by applying it to any of his companions in drinking and whoring back in Ireland. Companions bought with ale and easy women were nothing like Willow.  
  
“How is Liam?” At last he was saying something that made sense.  
  
Willow appeared to feel the same way. She breathed an audible sigh. “He’s okay. He’s trying really hard with all the research, but he’s not finding anything. That’s pretty much par for the course.” She sighed again, but this time it sounded nothing like relief and much more like exasperation. “Not like any of this would even be necessary if I hadn’t gotten myself kidnapped.”  
  
Yes, she was still kicking herself for that. The Ascension wouldn’t be happening at all if she wasn’t slow-moving and clumsy. Getting captured by Faith… “I’m really sorry about that, by the way.”  
  
“Why would you apologize? I’m the one who was supposed to keep an eye out for you. You were busy with the magic. I’m the one who should be apologizing for allowing myself to be distracted.”  
  
“But you were helping Buffy.”  
  
“Who’s the Slayer and more than capable of fighting her own battles.”  
  
You know, it was sort of funny – fighting with Angel over whose fault her getting taken prisoner was – and she started to giggle. The look on his face stopped her cold. “I wasn’t laughing at you,” she hastened to assure him. “I just… It seemed sort of wacky, you know, us fighting over whose fault it was that I ended up as a hostage and all.”  
  
One of the things he was going to have to get used to about having a friend? Relaxing and understanding things like jokes. Or maybe the problem had been the residual tension he was feeling. Either way, Willow’s laughter made sense now and he smiled. “It is sort of pointless. I still take full responsibility, though.”  
  
Willow giggled again and Angel realized he was smiling more broadly. He’d made a joke, huh? Not something he did terribly often. His mind suddenly went back to a night long ago in Willow’s bedroom, when he’d wisecracked about honing his brooding skills. She brought out his lighter side, didn’t she?  
  
It was disconcerting.  
  
Time. He needed some time by himself, he decided. Time to think, time to get everything straight in his head, time to process what he’d learned, time to assess all the changes. “I should walk you home.”  
  
  
  
“Sorry I was such a spazz during dinner,” Buffy apologized for, oh, say, the _tenth_ time as she and Oz headed into the cemetery. “I guess I sort of forgot to keep my Mom up to date on everything.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Oz answered, also for about the tenth time, only he sounded a lot less moronic than she figured _she_ did.  
  
But he was wrong and she decided to argue the point this time. “No, it’s not okay. It seems like all I do is get you hurt and I don’t mean to, but… You know, the fact that I haven’t meant for any of it to happen isn’t even important. Because it doesn’t fix anything. I know that saying about good intentions and roads and I guess I finally get that it’s not just some fortune cookie thing that Giles says. It’s true. And it sucks. Because it seems like you’re not only on my road, but I keep pushing you in front of an eighteen-wheeler.” It felt painful and vulnerable, opening up like this and admitting just how much blame she felt entitled to for the wreckage of Oz’s life, but she was still glad she’d admitted it.  
  
“It’s not all your fault.” For some reason hearing him say that felt a lot better than if he’d said none of it was – probably because this felt sincere and maybe even sort of believable. “There’s a lot of traffic on your road.”  
  
The chuckle she heard… that was her, wasn’t it? And the joke? That was Oz. For a guy who didn’t talk much, he could be sort of witty. “I’m thinking of putting up stoplights,” she quipped back.  
  
She waited for the short but snappy comeback. It never came. What she got instead was: “Behind you. Vampire.”  
  
Oops. Time to abandon the chitchat and do her Slayer thing.  
  
  
  
The walk to Willow’s house was more pleasant than he'd anticipated and he'd changed his mind about rushing the journey so he could spend time alone. Somehow, they’d gotten on the topic of her earlier life and she was regaling him with some amusing tales of Xander’s youthful antics. If Angel had thought the boy was an idiot before… “He tried to do that with a” – the eighteenth century gentleman in him demurred for a moment before he finished – “a tampon?”  
  
Willow was beet red, but she nodded vigorously before the obligatory begging to “Please don’t ever tell him I told you about that, okay?”  
  
At her confirmation, Angel began laughing. He was never going to be able to keep a straight face the next time he saw that Harris clown. What an idiot. Of course, that made him wonder anew just what Willow had seen in the boy. He could see why Willow would choose _Liam_ over Oz – and no, that wasn’t arrogance – but for the life of him…  
  
“Wanna come in?” Willow asked without thinking. Oh god. Was this a good idea? She hadn’t had the chance to warn Liam that Angel knew… everything. Not like she could take back the invitation now.  
  
For a split second it appeared that Angel was going to say no and Willow nearly breathed a sigh relief, but then… “Sure. I’d like that.” Oh great. This wasn’t going to be awkward or difficult at all.  
  
Angel got it, though, so maybe that sigh could be breathed after all. “I’ll do the explaining, okay? I’ll make sure he understands that my knowing isn’t your fault.”  
  
Yes Willow did indeed sigh now. “Thanks.” With that, she gave him a smile and opened the front door. “I’m home,” Willow called out, “and Angel’s here too.”  
  
Liam emerged from the dining room, hiding his irritation. He’d fully intended to go straight to Willie’s and then take Willow to bed, but his evening seemed well and truly ruined now. “Hello,” he offered mildly, making sure not to overcompensate.  
  
It took him aback when Angel’s first words were, “We should probably talk.” One look at Willow’s ashen face told him exactly what had happened.  
  
“I suppose we do,” he said mildly, not wanting to reveal anything without knowing the extent of Angel’s knowledge.  
  
They adjourned to the living room and both he and Angel waited for Willow to take a seat on the sofa. His eyes narrowed as he noted that Angel had seemed about to sit beside her before choosing the armchair. Liam took his rightful place next to Willow and filed Angel’s move away for later thought.  
  
A moment later, Angel spoke. “I know – about you and Willow…and about the curse.” She had told him? What on Earth…? But then Angel continued. “I noticed that her scent had stayed exactly the same for a few days. I made her tell me everything.”  
  
  
  
Breathing hard, Buffy brushed the dust off her clothes. “You know, we really need to either protect the wrestling team better or just not have one. I hate it when they get vamped.” She helped Oz up from the ground. “Another eighteen-wheeler,” she said ruefully.  
  
“Just a pickup,” he replied, smiling that half-smile she was starting to find kind of endearing. “I’ll live.”  
  
“Thanks. It’s been so quiet on the vamp front lately. I’d almost forgotten they’re the main thing I’m supposed to fight.” She heard her voice grow softer… vampires equalled Angel and… no, they hadn’t fought, but she’d been hurt, that was for sure.  
  
“You okay?” Oz’s voice sounded far away and Buffy shook her head to return herself back to the here and now. The here and now where, just like Oz, she was all alone.  
  
“Yeah. Just thinking for a minute.”  
  
“Angel?”  
  
She chuckled ruefully. “How’d you guess?”  
  
“Lucky.”  
  
“Or maybe you’re thinking about someone too?” A shadow came over his eyes and Buffy took his hand. “It’s okay. I mean, yes, she’s my friend, but so are you. You can talk to me – if you want to talk. I promise it stays just between us.”  
  
“Thanks, but…”  
  
“You’re not big on the whole ‘using lots of words’ thing. I kinda get that about you.” She grinned at him. “I’m fine with that.”  
  
He grinned back… well, an Oz-grin, anyway. The corners of his mouth sort of turned up and for a second she thought maybe she saw teeth. “Patrol?”  
  
“Yeah. Guess we should get back to work.”  
  
  
  
Willow had offered to stay home, but Liam and Angel had both kind of insisted, in that weird not-insist-y way they had, so here she was, walking with them to Willy’s. And no, it didn’t feel awkward at all… except for all the tension and everything. At least Liam didn’t seem mad at her though. Boy did she owe Angel for telling the story really, really well.  
  
“I can take you to my guy for blood if you like,” Angel offered, and Willow winced. Liam wasn’t too into cow and his opinion about it… well, she didn’t really want him sharing it with Angel.  
  
Luckily, he was pretty diplomatic. “I’d rather go to Willy’s. But thank you.”  
  
Liam’s refusal wasn’t exactly shocking. The truth was that Angel would prefer going to Willy’s too. He stuck to cow for the sake of penance and because he didn’t trust himself with human blood. Liam was fortunate to have never lost his soul. “Okay,” he responded calmly.  
  
You know, he’d asked Willow to come along for a reason. There were still those questions he had about Liam’s life, things he was desperate to know. “Do you mind if I ask you about some things?”  
  
What was Angel up to? Liam was instantly on guard. With Willow here, his options were limited in terms of how he could handle this if things went south – and it made refusal impossible. “Sure,” he replied with a shrug.  
  
Not knowing what to expect, he was inevitably surprised by the question. “How did you… how did you become friends with Ted?”  
  
He had a hunch that was the least of the things Angel wanted to know, but he was glad that this question gave him a hint as to the nature of this inquiry – Angel was looking to compare their biographies. “I saved his life and he invited me back to his house for cookies. I ended up explaining what I was to him and… he accepted me. We became friends. He was the only person I could trust. The only one who trusted me.” He paused, not sure whether he was being wise, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Willow told me – what Ted was, that he was a robot. She even showed me his hand. But he was human to me. More human than the Watcher or any of the other White Hats. They never gave me a chance. I think they preferred seeing the town fall than deign to help a demon.”  
  
Even though she’d heard this before, Willow could feel tears forming in her eyes. This was, after all, the prelude to the torture and agony Liam had endured for years at the hands of her counterpart and Xander’s. “It’s okay,” she said softly, putting her hand on Liam’s arm.She decided not to worry about what Liam had told Angel about her saving part of Ted. Angel wouldn’t go running to Buffy; she was sure of that.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Angel said, knowing it was paltry. But he had even more questions now. Hearing Liam’s nearly venomous description of Giles and the others… had they left him to battle the Master on his own? Had Ted been imperiled somehow? Had that been what… “Is that how…? Did they leave you alone against Darla and the Master?”  
  
Liam’s answer stunned him. “Darla was my ally. She… When she learned what I was doing here, she agreed to help me. She was on the inside, trying to find a way for us to defeat the Master and stop the Harvest. But somehow… he found out that she had betrayed him. He drained her right in front of me. That’s when I was taken captive.”  
  
Angel was stunned. How could…? Darla had been on Liam’s side… on the side of good and right…  
  
Did Liam know what had happened to Darla in this world?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	43. Chapter Forty-Two

Feral (Chapter Forty-Two)  
  
  
  
Angel was reeling from what Liam had just told him about Darla when the other shoe dropped.  
  
“Willow already told me – about what happened to Darla here. That you killed her.”  
  
For a brief second, Angel felt fury rise within him, but then he turned and looked into Willow’s eyes. How could he hate her? Maybe once he could have at least maintained animosity, but now… And anyway, he knew her too well not to trust her to have pled his case the very best she could – probably more effectively than he could himself, especially factoring in Liam’s respective feelings toward them both. “I had to,” he said, calmly, but with conviction. “She wasn’t the same here. She was working with the Master. She tried to kill Buffy, Buffy’s mother.”  
  
Excuses, excuses… Liam had heard them all from Willow and they didn’t sound any more convincing when Angel offered them. Had that bastard even _tried_ to talk to his sire? Probably not. He was too pussy-whipped by the Slayer. No point in talking about it with him, however, and even less point in revealing his own true feelings on the matter. Instead, he merely nodded and replied with a bland, “I understand. Our worlds – they’re not the same.”  
  
Angel was visibly relieved and Liam felt a fresh wave of contempt wash over him. He could only imagine this sniveling wretch in chains – so desperate for approval that he probably wouldn’t have even needed to be broken to perform on command. Bet it bothered him, the way the others didn’t trust him, the way both Watchers kept a weather eye out for the demon to emerge. It didn’t bother Liam. All of them were as worthless as their counterparts from his own world. All except for Willow.  
  
Oh goody. More tension. Was Angel mad at her? It didn’t look like he was, but he wasn’t much easier to read than Oz, so Willow wasn’t exactly confident right now. As for Liam… he seemed to be okay, too. She sure hoped he was. It had to be hard for him, thinking about what happened to Darla – his Darla. What he’d just said to Angel at least showed he understood the difference between her and the one Angel had had to slay, and that was a relief, but still… She took his hand and looked up into his eyes. “This world’s Darla was pretty scary,” she affirmed. Jesse’s face swam before her eyes. His grave. She hadn’t visited his grave since… ever. Okay, maybe he wasn’t actually in there, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t wrong for neglecting his memory.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Angel asked, wondering at the flicker of anger he noticed in Liam’s eyes.  
  
“Nothing.” Willow tried to smile, but it didn’t fool Angel for a minute – Liam either, if the solicitous expression he now turned on Willow was any indication.  
  
He quirked an eyebrow at her and let Liam urge her, “It’s okay. You can tell me.”  
  
The dimly lit entrance to Willy’s loomed and Willow breathed a rather obvious sigh of relief. “We’re here.”  
  
No, Angel wasn’t nearly as happy as she was that they had arrived at this dive. Not only did he want to know what had upset her, but he was curious about Liam’s reaction. With both of them now having the chance to compose themselves, he wasn’t going to get his answers, was he?  
  
There was nothing to be done about it, however, so he smiled equably and concurred, “Yes, we are.” With that, he led them to the entrance of the depressing excuse for a tavern. Willy’s sniveling and human blood in which he couldn’t allow himself to indulge. He was anticipating both with the relish he used to reserve for drinking holy water. Oh well. He opened the door. “After you.”  
  
  
  
“That was the fifth new vamp tonight,” Buffy grumbled as she dusted herself off – again. “Guess they got the Ascension memo.”  
  
Oz nodded, his eyes clouded and worried. For a moment he looked weirdly Giles-like and Buffy tried to picture him in tweed. The image made her giggle, not helped by the fact that Oz was now looking at her in that unnerved way Giles often did. “I’m sorry,” she choked out through stifled laughter. “I was just…” Should she tell him? Angel wasn’t big on being laughed at or anything, but Oz was different. Maybe he’d laugh. “It’s just that you looked sort of like Giles for a second and I was picturing you in tweed.”  
  
Good call, Buffy, because Oz actually smiled – well, it was an Oz-smile, which meant it involved very minimal facial movement, but still – a smile! And a raised eyebrow. Two distinctive variations of expression. It felt like victory. “Tweed?”  
  
“Yeah,” she offered with a wide, Buffy-grin, playfully punching his arm. “Could be a cool new look for you.”  
  
Oz shook his head as he ducked it, but Buffy caught a smirk going on. It felt… really good, being Oz’s friend. She only wished she’d realized so much sooner that he needed one. Yeah, sure, she knew he had the Dingoes, but it didn’t seem like they knew about the supernatural side of his life, and it wasn’t like she could blame Oz for that. She knew Devon – not well, but more than she wanted to; he made Harmony look like Willow in the depth department and she wouldn’t trust him with Cordelia’s locker combination.  
  
Something suddenly occurred to her. “I know your time of the month is coming up and usually…,” she paused to keep the dreaded ‘W’ word from emerging, “anyway, I was wondering if you wanted me to be your beastie-buddy this time. You know, hang out, man the tranq gun, make sure Snyder doesn’t see you naked, that kind of thing.”  
  
The look on Oz’s face… “Your Mom won’t mind?”  
  
“Nah. I think after tonight I can totally guilt trip her into letting me wolf-sit.” Her smile was wide and toothy as she tried to keep her remark from opening any wounds.  
  
“Thanks.” Another smile, this one even more like a regular-person smile. “I mean, I don’t usually remember much during… but it’s nice. Having someone there.”  
  
Buffy reached out and put her hand on his arm. “I’m glad to be able to be there.” A moment of unexpectedly awkward silence followed – an awkwardness Buffy didn’t understand. “I’m pretty sure we got all the fledges,” she finally said. “What do you say I walk you back to the van?”  
  
  
  
Willow had to admit that it was sort of funny – the way the sparse gaggle of patrons reacted to _two_ versions of Angel walking into Willy’s. She hadn’t thought about how the local demons would react to seeing both Angel and Liam at once – or Willy, for that matter. “Hi,” Willow cheerily greeted the craven proprietor cringing wide-eyed behind the bar. He didn’t look at her.  
  
“Hey there… uh… Angels.”  
  
“Ten bags of your best,” Liam said in a low voice, smooth with subtle menace. He wanted to make sure no one mistook him for his pathetic doppelganger, who gave him a look full of curiosity which brought him up short. It wouldn’t do for the man to be asking questions or wondering about him. “Thanks,” he added in a far milder tone. Much to his delight, Angel relaxed, but Willy did not – the best of outcomes.  
  
In fact, Willy scuttled like a cockroach to the back room, emerging with a cooler. “Here… here’s a dozen. Call it ten, okay?” Willow was the one now who shot him a quizzical look when he reached into his pocket and pulled out some bills. Later, he’d explain to her about the money. For now, he paid the man and carefully assessed just who – and what – were staring at them. A couple of vampires, something that vaguely resembled a Chaos demon off in a far corner, nothing worth noting. Guess the real danger was gathered elsewhere. Willy’s place seemed to be hosting tourists tonight.  
  
“Let’s go,” Angel said, eager to leave. There was a vampire there he recognized as having been one of the minions he’d appropriated from Spike – one who he thought had been slain during his soulless days. Hmm. Guess he’d just grown tired of Angelus’s cruelty and been brave enough to strike out on his own. If it weren’t for the fact that he was almost certainly allied with the Mayor now, Angel would almost admire him. Maybe… no, he wasn’t going to confront the creature, not with Willow here, but he locked eyes with him, letting him know that he was remembered… and that he was being warned. The other demon looked away first – not that Angel hadn’t expected to win that small contest of dominance –and he once again led the way, this time out of the grubby establishment.  
  
“It wasn’t really busy, was it?” Willow observed conversationally. She wasn’t the Slayer or anything special supernaturally, but it felt like trouble that Willy’s was sort of deserted. Judging by the way Angel was trying to look super casual, she figured she was right. No, she wasn’t going to pursue the subject, though. Poor Angel. He was going through enough what with finding out about the curse the way he had and all. “Do you need to stop and get some blood for yourself? ‘Cause we can swing by the butcher’s if you like.” He was still looking sort of ‘off’ and she wondered if she’d done something wrong – something new-wrong, anyway. “Are you okay?”  
  
Angel decided to share what he’d seen. “One of the vampires in there – he used to be one of Spike’s minions. Before… I was surprised to see him, that’s all.”  
  
“Oh.” It was one syllable, but it was sweet and sympathetic and not at all judgmental. Her friendship was fast becoming something he never wanted to lose.  
  
He was leaving town though, wasn’t he? Wasn’t he?  
  
“You spent a lot of time with Spike?” Angel wasn’t the only one who was curious and Liam decided to use this time to get some answers to his own questions. He himself had happily dispensed with Spike’s company shortly after the gypsies killed Drusilla and hadn’t seen the feckless upstart since, though he’d heard tell that the boy had made a name for himself in Romania and Hungary. Leave it to young William to be so reckless and idiotic. Romania? He’d actually gone back there?  
  
Angel’s answer cut short his musings. “He came to town to get my blood to restore Drusilla. Ended up crippled for awhile. I took over from him when I lost… when I lost my soul.”  
  
“So Drusilla wasn’t killed then?”  
  
Angel appeared puzzled. “No. Was she in your world?”  
  
“The Kalderash. They set her on fire. They thought I’d suffer more… watching her die.” Without thinking, he shrugged, clearly indicating his indifference to her fate. He’d felt guilt when it happened, but… No, she’d never been dear to him. He’d turned her for the gift of sight that had ultimately failed them far more often than it had ever been a boon and her insanity was an annoyance that frequently endangered them. She’d been a mistake and he couldn’t mourn her with sincerity, other than regretting in an impersonal way his role in turning her and leading her to such a terrible final demise.  
  
Willow listened in silence, watching for Angel’s reaction to Liam’s calm description of Drusilla’s fate. What was he feeling? She wished she knew. She decided not to say anything, like bringing up Drusilla’s murder of Kendra, instead standing mute. Boy would anyone who knew her be surprised at that, huh?  
  
Then Angel spoke. “She was here when I was… when I was Angelus. She was helping me suck the world into Hell… until Spike betrayed… well, it was a good thing, really.” Willow nodded, but she stayed solemn and quiet. Because yeah, Spike had saved the world, which was very much of the good, but Angel had wound up spending centuries in Hell, and that was so very _not_ of the good.  
  
She noticed they were indeed heading to the butcher’s. Her distraction sounded the death knell for her thoughtful silence. “I’m sorry. If I had just completed the restoration the first time… I told Xander to tell Buffy I was trying again, though, so I…” Oh great. She had so screwed up. Angel looked utterly stricken. “I’m just really sorry. And I’ll shut up now because I’m sure this isn’t exactly a memory lane you wanted to stroll down.”  
  
Liam wasn’t at all happy with Willow’s excessive solicitude for Angel, but he reminded himself that she was an extremely kind and considerate creature and anyway, it was Liam, not Angel, who shared her bed… who had her heart. Still, he was desirous of getting home where he could remind Willow which of them was the better man. He reached over, taking her hand and interjecting himself into the conversation at the same time. “I know you did everything you could.”  
  
Her smile was small and sad, but she did smile at him. And what do you know? Here they were at the butcher’s. “Willow and I will wait out here for you.” Angel seemed about to argue, but he didn’t, and Liam watched smugly as he headed in to get his bovine excuse for sustenance.  
  
Once Angel was out of sight, Liam leaned down and kissed Willow. Ah. Now that was more sustaining than the freshest and purest of human blood.  
  
  
  
Oz’s van pulled away from the curb as Buffy watched. She felt strange and strangely _guilty_. Okay, maybe it sort of made sense, seeing as how Willow was her best friend and here she was, palling around with Willow’s ex. Not like Willow was hanging out with Angel, after all, but that was different. Buffy and Oz had been friends _before_ the big break-up… well, sort of, anyway, right?  
  
She sighed. Nope, not buying it. At the same time, she wasn’t going to change anything either. She liked Oz, really _liked_ him. He was odd and interesting and… nice. Not in that wimpy, annoying way either, but manly nice, in a weirdly non-macho kind of way. He was helpful on patrol, he got her jokes and he was… He was her friend. She could be friends with him _and_ with Willow. She could.  
  
And she would.  
  
  
  
No sooner had Angel left them at the door to her house and headed off to the mansion then Willow found herself back in Liam’s arms.  
  
This was bad. No, not bad, but… they needed to talk, right? There was the whole thing with Angel knowing everything now and the stuff Liam had told him and… yeah, there was stuff and talking should be going on. Only, as Liam fished the key out of his pocket – and no, she wasn’t sure she was okay with him carrying her keys – while still kissing and caressing her, she was having a hard time listening to her brain and being sensible.  
  
He was way too good at this. And okay, maybe it seemed silly to think of anyone as being too good at… this, but… Oh god. The way he touched her. She knew for sure he was a demon, because the stuff he did with his hands was so very supernatural.  
  
They stumbled into the house, Liam finding it to be all he could do to keep from taking her on the front lawn. They were definitely not going to make it upstairs.  
  
Pulling her shirt free of her jeans, he ripped it open. He ignored her gasp, as he tore her bra and his mouth found her neck. While he kissed and caressed her, he picked her up and carried her to the couch.  
  
Once he set her down beside it, she unfastened her jeans and allowed him to help her remove them, along with her panties. “I want you,” he growled.  
  
“I want you too.” He could smell her need, but hearing the words was even better. In seconds he had her on her back, unfastening his own pants and thrusting inside her.  
  
“Oh!” She hadn’t totally been prepared for this to start so quickly, but it didn’t hurt or anything – just the opposite, in fact – but she still… She wasn’t sure she was okay with this, the way he was dominating her. A moment later, however, she wasn’t doing much thinking at all.  
  
Whatever she felt or didn’t feel for Liam, she was practically addicted to this. Sex was amazing – no question about it. He was pounding into her – harder than he ever had before – and even though it kind of hurt, it hurt in a really good way. A really, _really_ good way. She dug her nails into his back as she met his thrusts. “Oh god!” she screamed as she crashed into orgasm. But even as she began to come down from her incredible high, Liam wasn’t done yet. Her body began climbing to another crescendo. She’d have wondered how long this would last, but her brain was long gone.  
  
Willow was his. His, his, _his_. He hadn’t meant to be so aggressive with her, but the recollection of Angel trying to sit next to her, looking at her as if his tepid, pitiful friendship deserved the same stature as Liam’s passion made him almost crazed with the need to dominate, to possess.  
  
But she wasn’t frightened. On the contrary, she was responding, giving herself over to him, crying out her pleasure. What more proof could there be that she loved him, knew that she belonged to him? He thrust into her over and over, glorying in how she reacted to his touch. “I love you,” he breathed. “I love you so much.”  
  
  
  
Emptying a bag of fresh cow blood into a mug, Angel replayed everything he’d learned tonight over in his head. Liam’s life… it diverged from his to a greater degree than he’d ever imagined. Spike was long gone, Drusilla dead, and Darla.  
  
That affected him the most strongly – Darla having sided with Liam against the Master. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.  
  
Yes he was.  
  
He was jealous. Again.  
  
More jealous than he was of what Liam enjoyed with Willow…  
  
No, but he wished he was. He should be.  
  
Were they making love right now? Probably. What was it like for them? Surely Liam had to hold back, Willow could never handle... or could she? Was she willing to be with a demon – completely?  
  
No, no, _no_. He was not going to think about this. It was ridiculous. Liam’s tastes, desires… they were not Angel’s.  
  
He put his blood in the microwave. After this, he was going to take a shower and then settle down with some Sartre. That would straighten him out, get his thoughts righted.  
  
Yes.  
  
The microwave beeped.  
  
No, he didn’t wish he’d picked up a supply from Willy’s.  
  
He didn’t.  
  
  
  
To be continued.


	44. Chapter Forty-Three

  
Feral (Chapter Forty-Three)  
  
  
  
The past few days had been spent in a weird kind of limbo, at least in Willow’s life. She’d barely seen Angel; he’d shown up at the library once, talked to Giles, and left without speaking to her. If only she knew what was wrong, had the chance to talk to him, but she had been too busy… except she hadn’t actually accomplished anything. Research had been all about chasing her tail, there was trying to talk to Liam... She had no idea what she even wanted to say, only that she had to say something. But instead she’d come home and wind up with her clothes all but torn off before she even had the chance to say hello.   
  
Not that she was saying no. Sex – and yeah, that’s what she was spending her nights doing so she needed to start being okay with admitting it to herself - it was great, okay? If that made her a nympho or a tramp, then hey, just call her a ho and have done with it. Also, she had to admit that there was something kind of addictive about the way Liam desired her. Sure, it was a little scary sometimes, but when you were the girl who no one but one guy had ever wanted, the girl everyone passed by, the girl who the guy you first loved had practiced asking out other girls on, that kind of scary wasn’t such a bad thing.   
  
Maybe the scary was part of why she liked it.  
  
She looked at her face in the bathroom mirror. It was the same old Willow face. Did it look like a girl who craved danger, possessiveness, wild sex? She didn’t think so, but maybe she wasn’t such a great judge… or maybe her own face was one big lie.  
  
Sighing, she squeezed toothpaste on her toothbrush and began to brush her teeth, postponing indefinitely the talk she really needed to have with herself about her feelings for Liam – the ones she still wasn’t sure about. It was Prom Night tonight, which meant she’d be picking up the research slack today, she was sure. Better go hit the books.  
  
  
  
Turning off his laptop, Angel ran his hand through his hair. It was well past sunrise and he needed rest, but here he was – wide awake, just as he’d been every night since...   
  
But how was he supposed to rest when his mind wouldn’t stop chewing to pieces everything he’d learned from Liam… and Willow?   
  
One thing was sure, the more he thought, the more new questions emerged. Did Liam miss Spike at all? He didn’t seem to… and he was utterly unmoved by Drusilla’s fate. It would have made him wonder except that it was clear as glass that Liam mourned Darla intensely. He could only imagine the guilt he must feel – Darla being drained right in front of him as punishment for taking his side against her own sire.  
  
Yes, that still stirred the embers of jealousy within him. His own Darla hadn’t loved him nearly so much. Had Liam loved her back that same way? He was curious.  
  
Some things in Liam’s life seemed to be the same as in his own – his turning, Drusilla being part of his ‘family’ – but then there were the differences. Why? Why had things in Liam’s world zigged where here they had zagged? What had Liam done in the years between getting his soul and coming to Sunnydale? Who had been the messenger to summon him? Had it been Whistler?  
  
He wondered about Buffy. From what little he’d learned, she wasn’t anything like the one he knew. If she could just ignore what was going on in Sunnydale… well, it was no wonder Liam hadn’t loved her. How did he know, though? Had he had more contact with her than Angel?   
  
None of this explained Willow, however, did it? Liam had fallen in love with the image of the creature… well, all right, admittedly, there was only an initial resemblance. After two minutes with the vampire version, you could readily see that she was different even from how he’d imagine this world’s Willow would be were she turned. Still, she _was_ a version of Willow, so there had to be something profound about her that made Liam see past…  
  
There was, wasn’t there? Because he was starting to see her differently himself. Oh, not the same way Liam did, because he could never… No, never, not him. Willow was anything but his type, but she was …no, he could no longer say that he couldn’t see what his counterpart had fallen for, though he was starting to wish he… But that was silly, wasn’t it? Willow was his friend and understanding how someone could fall for her wasn’t wrong; it was how friends felt about each other.  
  
And the fact that he hadn’t spoken to her in days? That was because of what he’d learned from Liam and wondering how to approach the man again, how to deal with the anger he sensed he’d awakened in him.  
  
He headed for the kitchen. He needed some blood and then he was retiring to bed. If he was going to be any use, he needed rest.  
  
  
  
Buffy was feeling good – and guilty and sort of awful, come to think of it. Tonight was Prom Night, she had a fabulous dress and despite having been dumped by her boyfriend, she actually had a date… With Oz. Was it her, or should that last thought have included the fact that he was her best friend’s ex?  
  
She had pretty much stopped thinking of him that way, though, or primarily that way, anyway. Now when she thought about him, he was Oz. Just Oz. Like Xander was just Xander or Willow was just…  
  
The girl who didn’t actually have a prom date and who’d wanted to go with her very best friend who… Oh god. She was going to Hell for this, wasn’t she? Would it be the same Hell that Angel went to and if so, think he’d be willing to give her the 4-1-1 on what went on down there so she could be prepared? Because “Be Prepared” was totally her motto… Okay, her and the Boy Scouts.   
  
It wasn’t really that wrong, though, right? Going to the Prom with a friend who just happened to have been dumped by your other friend? Why was she stressing about this? Not like Willow was even mad. Because she wasn’t. She’d assured Buffy of that – again – just last night.  
  
You know, it made no sense for Buffy to be tearing herself to pieces over this, so why was she? She had Willow’s blessing and Angel had dumped… And that was what the real problem was, huh. Angel. Part of her still hadn’t gotten the ‘it’s over’ memo. This whole ‘dating other people’ thing – no, this wasn’t really a date, but still – it was freaking her out.  
  
With a sigh, she rolled off of her bed. Time to put her personal problems on hold for a bit. The library called – there was still Mayor-Mc-Soon-To-Be-Demon to deal with, after all – and she was still first and foremost The Slayer. So it was settled – books today, Prom tonight.  
  
  
  
Willow sat there, sneaking glances at Xander and Cordelia. She had this weird, déjà vu kind of feeling… there was something she knew she didn’t know. Had they gotten back together? No, because Cordelia was still drooling at Wesley, but still, there was something…  
  
Now wasn’t the time to worry about that, though, because she had to keep her breakfast down and try to think of ways to help stave off any further hellhound attacks like the really gross one captured on the videotape they’d just viewed. It would help if they knew who the controller guy was.  
  
Oz was way ahead of her, it seemed.  
  
“Here,” he called out, and they all hurried to where he sat with a yearbook open in front of him. “Tucker Wells. He’s in my chem lab.” Huh. Willow had some sort of vague memories of him as well. Hadn’t he been the creepy kid who tried to start a conversation with her about Forest Ackerman once? It would have been back in 9th grade. Guess he’d progressed from special effects to the real thing.   
  
“Great job,” Buffy crowed, patting Oz on the shoulder and earning herself an oddly hostile look from Xander. Oh god. Hadn’t Willow done her babble queen thing and ‘accidentally’ told Xander about who Buffy was going to the Prom with? Great. Willow had to pick _now_ to be Taciturn Girl?  
  
Grabbing Willow’s arm, she pulled her over to the stairs. “He doesn’t know I’m going to the Prom with Oz?” she hissed.   
  
At least Willow had the grace to look really guilty. “No. I kind of thought that was up to you,” she offered sheepishly.  
  
Okay, Willow pretty much had a point there. Buffy could admit that. She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I was sort of chicken and hoped you’d do it for me.”  
  
“I still can,” Willow chirruped brightly.  
  
For a brief moment, Buffy was tempted, but then she kicked herself for being melodramatic. Xander would deal. Cordelia on the other hand… Still, might as well get it over with. “Nope, I got this.”  
  
She decided to opt for the indirect ‘oops, didn’t you already know?’ approach as she headed back over to where Oz was enduring a lecture on serial killer stereotypes from Wesley. “So, you got your tux and everything?” she asked, just a tiny bit too loudly and faux-casually.   
  
“Goin’ stag there, Oz?” Xander asked.  
  
“No,” Buffy answered, trying hard to look convincingly confused. “He’s going with me. You knew that.”  
  
Great. Xander was spluttering, Giles was giving her The Grim British Look of Disapproval, and Cordelia… “So, Willow, guess you’re the one who knows what it’s like for some backstabbing ho to steal your boyfriend this time.”  
  
  
  
“Yes, the tailoring has all been completed. Everything will be delivered as you requested, sir.” Liam had long ago ceased to be amazed at what a little money could do, and so the obsequious toadying of the man at the other end of the line didn’t faze him even slightly. He said something inconsequential and then hung up, glad for the shade which would protect him long enough to deal with deliverymen and retrieve the packages which would soon be arriving… the tuxedo and gown he’d ordered a couple of days ago, tailored to the measurements he’d provided; shoes; the correct bag for Willow; flowers; and of course a limousine.  
  
He was taking Willow to the Prom. Consequences be damned.  
  
After all, given Angel’s antisocial nature, how many of the students there would even be aware he existed, let alone be familiar enough with him to confuse him with Liam? At any rate, Liam didn’t care. Willow deserved to shine like the jewel she was for all the world to see – starting tonight.  
  
And the world needed to see that she was his.  
  
  
  
“You didn’t need to come with me.”  
  
“You’re my date. Kinda want to make sure you stay in one piece.”  
  
It was hard not to smile, but Buffy kept her serious face on. She needed to talk to this guy at the meat packing plant – Tucker was getting brains somewhere and she was pretty sure that ‘somewhere’ was here.  
  
Pulling the scan of Tucker’s yearbook photo out of her pocket, she approached a short, middle-aged guy with a scarily porntastic moustache. “Hey. Mind if I ask you a question?” She showed him the picture. “Would he happen to be a regular customer by any chance?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. This kid orders cow brains a couple of times a week.” He seemed pretty creeped out as he hastily wrote something down and handed it to her. “Goes to this address. Good luck. He's a weird kid.”  
  
That was way easier than she’d thought it would be. She’d call it anticlimactic except she really wasn’t in the mood to complain. “Thanks,” she said with a cheery smile. “Thanks a lot.”  
  
The man walked away, leaving Oz and Buffy standing there holding the note. “Guess we’re still going to be dancing to today’s Top 40,” he said.  
  
“Yeah. Unless we’re too late.”  
  
“Your optimism being one of your most appealing qualities.”   
  
She punched him lightly in the arm, and no, it didn’t feel at all different from the other times she’d done that. “We better get back to the library, see what the others have come up with.”  
  
  
  
Willow was sitting on the steps leading to the stacks, feeling very dejected and useless. If only she’d been able to find out anything from that David kid Tucker had been emailing, but his Mom had been there and it wasn’t like she could ask about hellhounds in front of the typically oblivious Sunnydale parent, now could she?  
  
A moment later, Xander plunked himself down beside her. “You okay, Wills?”   
  
“Sure, except for my total failure to find out anything useful. How’d you do at the magic shop?”  
  
“Big zero. But I wasn’t talking about our total worthlessness as trusty sidekicks. I was talking about…” He inclined his head in the direction of Oz’s forgotten backpack, which rested next to a computer.  
  
“I’m totally okay,” she replied, hoping she sounded as sincere as she wanted to, because she really _was_ okay.   
  
He searched her face for a moment and she caught a glint of surprise. Guess he realized she wasn’t mad at all. “Sorry about Cordy,” he offered. “She kind of has,” he paused and there was that ‘something-she-knew-she-didn’t-know’ again, “tact issues.” His tone was so much kinder than it had been lately on the topic of Cordelia that Willow wondered: Had she been wrong earlier? Were Xander and Cordelia back together?  
  
She debated with herself for a moment before deciding, but this time her choice seemed clear. Last time she’d let herself get smacked in the face with it. This time she wanted to learn the truth in a sane and rational way. “Are you and Cordelia, you know, you and Cordelia again? Because I would really not want to be you when Anya finds out – at least if she finds out at the Prom.”  
  
Okay, the stunned look on Xander’s face? Willow guessed that meant she was wrong, a guess that was confirmed when he asked, “Why would you think that?” in a tone full of genuine confusion.  
  
“Umm… the whole making excuses for her thing, maybe? Because that is so not something you’ve been doing lately.” She was staring into his eyes, willing him to tell her what was going on.  
  
And no, she was not actually thinking about what a hypocrite she was right now for demanding that Xander be straight with her when she was keeping so many secrets from him, thank you very much.  
  
She stared, slowly unleashing her Resolve Face.  
  
Xander caved in. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? And by not anyone, I mean _not anyone_. That includes Buffy.” His voice was low and he looked at her skeptically; she realized he had no clue how good she was at keeping secrets.  
  
“Promise,” she said, as softly as he had spoken, and she meant it. Of course now she was worrying about what the heck this big secret could be. Oh god. Cordelia wasn’t pregnant, was she?  
  
“She’s broke.”  
  
Willow’s eyes shot wide. Oh. From Cordelia’s point of view this had to be the worst thing ever. “She’s broke? Like in ‘no money’ broke? How…?”  
  
“Seems that her Dad had this interesting technique for saving money on his taxes. He didn’t pay them. The IRS didn’t seem to think that was nearly as super an idea as he did, apparently, so…”  
  
“They took everything.” She was going to say something more when Buffy and Oz came through the library doors.   
  
Judging by the subdued looks on Willow and Xander’s faces and the fact that Giles was staring off into space, Buffy was guessing she and Oz were the only ones who had good news.   
  
Willow didn’t even get up from her perch on the stairs. “We’ve got nothing, Buffy. Sorry.”   
  
Yep, Buffy had been right, hadn’t she? “Fear not, Oz and I come bearing an address. Which means that you guys need to get home and get your Prom gear on.”  
  
“But Buffy…”  
  
“Will, just go, okay?” Buffy still felt awful about how her clumsy revelation earlier had wound up with Giles having to ride to the rescue and stop Cordelia from cutting Willow into tiny shreds with the meat cleaver she called a tongue.   
  
“I’m not going to the Prom,” Willow started, but Buffy hadn’t paid attention to Willow’s Resolve Face for nothing, fixing her friends with a steely glare that seemed pretty darn effective.  
  
“Go,” she said, pointing to the door for emphasis, and even Giles stayed silent. Willow and Xander slunk away. Boy she was going to have to remember that look. Would it work on demons? Math teachers?  
  
Giles spoke after the door closed behind her departing friends. “Finding an address hardly means case closed,” he reminded her. And here Oz thought _she_ was the optimism-challenged one.  
  
“She’s got help.”   
  
Buffy was about to argue that, but it occurred to her that Oz’s whole wolf thing might actually come in handy with hellhounds. He might have some insight or something. “He’s right. I’ve got the whole back-up thing covered.” She turned to Oz. “Let’s go slay some hounds.”  
  
  
  
Whatever Willow had expected when she walked in the front door of her house, it sure hadn’t been Liam in a tuxedo. “Wow.” She dropped her bookbag and stared. He looked… incredibly handsome. Like something out of GQ. “All this for staying in and ordering pizza?”  
  
Liam chuckled and that was even more confusing than the sight of him in a tux. “I have a surprise for you.” He reached behind him and picked up a box, handing it to her. She opened and…  
  
“Oh my god!” Inside the box was an elegant evening gown. It was like something out of one of Buffy’s fashion magazines. “I’m… What is this for? Not that I’m not grateful, because it’s really, really beautiful. It’s just…”  
  
Willow’s voice trailed off as she stared at the dress and her expression was as awestruck as he could have hoped for, though he was still cursing Angel for not having given him enough money to spring for the Versace he’d _wanted_ to give her. He went to her and put his hand under her chin, giving her a soft kiss. “I’m taking you to the Prom.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	45. Chapter Forty-Four

Feral (Chapter Forty-Four)  
  
  
  
With a certain amount of trepidation, and some discomfort with balancing in high, spiked heels, Willow let Liam escort her into the crowded gymnasium. Boy were there a lot of people here. Were there usually this many people at Proms? Staring at her – people were staring at her. Did any of them think she was with Angel? Oh no. What if they thought she was some boyfriend-stealing skank?  
  
Liam leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You’re so beautiful.” She wished she could believe it, but a part of her felt a lot like she had on that Halloween, when Buffy had tried to make a sexpot out of her. It was weird, being dressed so glamourously. This wasn’t a prom dress, that was for sure. No, this was an evening gown. She could feel the envy from Harmony all the way across the room, though whether it was for the dress or her date, Willow couldn’t be sure. Maybe both, huh. Liam was definitely better-looking than any guy in the room.   
  
The music was blaring – generic pop garbage. While, unlike Angel, Liam enjoyed a great deal of modern rock, this nonsense didn’t suit his taste. Still, he didn’t suppose that this mass of sheeplike children could appreciate Nina Hagen, The Severed Heads, or even Bis, though the idea of queuing up _Secret Vampire_ struck him as amusingly apt.   
  
Despite the noise, however, Liam wanted Willow to enjoy every moment of this rite of passage. “Do you want to dance?” Without waiting for an answer, he guided her to the dance floor.  
  
Many eyes were on them and he reveled in the attention. So much jealousy… and that was as it should be. He was here with the most desirable of women, even if these adolescent buffoons had never had the sense to realize it, and he himself – well, he wasn’t one of these sniveling, mortal clowns, now was he? Was he going to be battling to save them – and the rest of humanity – very soon? Certainly, and gladly. But that didn’t mean that he considered himself to be one of them. There were faces he recognized here, fools who’d hastened their own demise, even one he recalled as having romanticized vampires in the world from which he came… yes, he had watched her be tortured and killed early on. Xander had done it for his ‘edification’. It had been part of his breaking process.  
  
Speaking of that foul cretin, there he was on the arm of his ‘date’: Anya. If Liam’s lip-reading skills were still up to snuff, her idea of charming, first-date banter was to recount the tale of how she’d made a man’s head explode. Delightful creature. Exactly what Xander deserved.  
  
Willow stopped dancing as Xander approached, looking desperate. “Hey, Willow. Didn’t expect to see you here, but boy is it great! Is that a new dress? Where did you buy it?”  
  
Okay, who was this and why did he look like Xander? Because she’d figured that if he asked her anything at all, it would be why she was here with Liam. So discombobulated was she that she responded with complete honesty, “Umm… yeah, it’s new. Liam bought it for me.”   
  
However, far from initiating a round of mutually antipathetic stares, her blunder ended up not being so blunder-y. In fact, Xander’s response was directed at Liam, and it was a weirdly complimentary, “Great taste there, buddy. Maybe we could talk stores sometime. Like oh… Now.”  
  
Before Willow could faint, Cordelia’s arrival caught all their attention – hard not to notice someone walking in and deliberately standing in a spotlight.   
  
Liam smirked at Xander’s obvious desperation… and the obvious desire he still felt for the vapid girl preening in the glaring light, basking in far less attention than his own entrance with Willow had received. The puling, second-string Watcher scuttled right over to her side.  
  
Willow was obviously made very uncomfortable by the girl – Had she done anything else to his lover? She was going to pay if so – and she began dancing again. He pulled her to him, grateful for the excuse the slow song offered for holding her close.   
  
Unfortunately, the new arrival and her drooling admirer were soon upon them. “Angel? You’re with Willow?”  
  
  
  
Buffy and Oz raced across the quad, hellhounds in pursuit. “You know,” Buffy panted, “the van might have gotten us here faster than that limo.”  
  
Oz said nothing, but she didn’t expect him to. He had an odd look of concentration on his face and he hadn’t looked over at her once since they’d gotten to the campus, not even when he’d offered to carry her bag. What was up with…?  
  
Oh no. Not even anger over their dead littermate, it seemed, could compete with Tucker’s training, because the sounds of “Celebrate” lured them back towards the Prom. What was up with this? “Stay here,” she ordered Oz, but he either didn’t hear her or didn’t care because, to her shock, he actually raced out ahead of her, chasing the hounds.  
  
She suddenly got it. This was a wolf issue. Well, his need to prove some alpha-male-pack thing was not going to get him killed on her watch; she chased after him, catching up and sprinting past him in the building. She was about to pull out her fierce Slayer moves when Oz yelled “Stop!”… and they did. The hounds stopped. That was good, right? Maybe now Oz could put his Pied Piper hat on and lure them out of here where they could be safely and humanely slaughtered.  
  
Unfortunately, at that precise moment, a tuxedo made its appearance – a tuxedo with a Prom-goer inside it. That put the ‘hell’ back in ‘hellhound.’ “Get back!” Buffy yelled at the startled student.  
  
Oz looked at her, their eyes locked, and then – just as if one of them had said ‘1-2-3’ – they each leapt on a hellhound. Her knife found the heart of the first one just as she heard a sickening crack… which would be Oz snapping the neck of the second hound.  
  
What was that smell? Her answer came when a tremulous question came out of the mouth of tuxedo-boy. “B-bathroom?”  
  
She pointed down the hall and he stammered a “Th-th-tha” as he took off in search of plumbing… and hopefully a change of pants or something.  
  
“You’re welcome,” she called out after him.  
  
Oz was staring down at the corpse of the hound he’d just killed and Buffy wondered what he was thinking. “You okay?”  
  
“Kinda glad I wasn’t wearing my tux.”   
  
That was when Buffy looked and realized he’d torn his shirt and - what do you know – she had hellhound blood on hers. They were a matched set. “Yeah. I hear ya. Wanna help me dispose of the roadkill?”  
  
  
  
Angel couldn’t believe he even had this in his closet, but he did: a surely-out-of-date but still wearable tuxedo. What was even more unbelievable was that he was currently donning it and intended to wear it somewhere very particular – Buffy’s Prom.  
  
Of course he knew she had an escort – Oz – but that was a pity party for the both of them; Willow had told him as much. Surely he owed her a dance, a farewell…  
  
Who was he kidding? He knew why he was going - why he was seeking her out. He wanted to stir the embers, even if it would cause him guilt and agony; better that than the confused tumult into which his feelings had been transformed. More than anything, he felt as if he were grasping at that once-certain love for his girl like a drowning man clutching at the wreckage of a ship to keep from going under.  
  
If he could hold her close, feel the heat of her skin and the beat of her heart, it would all come back, wouldn’t it? Especially with her dressed in teenage finery, soft and sweet and in her element – The Slayer as enchanted princess. His heart – that dead organ which still plagued him as ever it plagued mortal man – would swell and all the old familiar passion would stir to life, fulsome and extravagant, within him.   
  
He could endure it, after all, surely, now that he was aware that solace, meager for now, but solace still, could be had. Sex was no longer forbidden and a tumble with a blonde-haired surrogate (or two) could take the sting from the wasp… or blunt it, at least.  
  
Sighing, trying not to allow any thoughts to form which might conflict with the narrative he’d constructed as a jail, of sorts, for his unruly emotions, he fussed with the bow tie which was the last component of his attire. Now was one of those times a reflection might have been useful, but after a couple of tries, he had it tied perfectly. Hopefully he wouldn’t encounter anything that would ruin the shine on his shoes.  
  
Before he could stop himself, he wondered what Willow and Liam were doing tonight. Sighing again, and shaking his head in the vain hope that the gesture would somehow clear the unwelcome elements from his brain, he trod down the stairs and out the door… to dance with Buffy.  
  
Prom-ward bound.  
  
  
  
The second hellhound corpse was now safely tucked away in a pile of brush and Buffy wiped her forehead. “My hair’s not ruined, is it?”   
  
“Still on your head,” Oz offered with that half-smile she was getting really used to… and really fond of.  
  
He wasn’t getting off the hook that easy, though. “Very funny,” she groused. “Do you really want to walk in there with me if I look like a chicken or something?”  
  
“A wolf and a chicken. Could work,” he said with a shrug.  
  
Shaking her head, Buffy tossed his bag over to him. “C’mon. Let’s get out of our work clothes and into some Prom gear. We missed ‘Celebrate’, so odds are pretty decent that we’ll have a good time.”  
  
Chuckling – soft, but still actual audible chuckling – and then Oz took his bag and went off behind some trees. “Let me know when you’re decent,” he called back. Nice to know he was a gentleman.  
  
In a surprisingly short time, Buffy had her dress on – and she wanted to give a big thumbs up to the makers of modern miracle fabrics, because the dress hadn’t wrinkled at all in the bag – and called out to Oz, “I’m ready.”  
  
Emerging from the trees, Oz looked… “Wow.” He looked really… handsome. He even had on a pale pink vest and tie that almost matched her dress. “You clean up good,” she offered, a thought suddenly popping into her head: Willow was kind of an idiot.   
  
He was staring back, at first with a smile, but then his eyes moved down to her feet… and stayed there. “Oh!” She just realized she’d forgotten to change her shoes. Sneakers. They were great for chasing demons but they so did not go with this dress. She slipped off the offending footwear and then got her heels out of her bag, put them on and… “Whoops!” Her heel caught in the soft earth and she pitched forward.  
  
Oz caught her.  
  
His arms were around her, keeping her from falling. He pulled her back up, and she turned to face him as his hands stayed loosely on her waist. “Thanks.” Her voice was soft; she was way too conscious of his hands… of him being right there in front of her…of…  
  
A second later, their lips met. It was a soft kiss and there wasn’t an Angel-type clap of thunder, but it was… no, not ‘nice’. Better than nice. Surprising, though, and probably a very stupid thing to do. Because they were friends and they were both on the rebound and she knew it was going to complicate their lives way, way more than either of them needed if she didn’t push him away right now.   
  
She put her hands on his shoulders and deepened the kiss.  
  
  
  
A shortcut through some trees. Not the best way to keep his shoes clean but Angel was feeling rather keen to get to the Prom, to see Buffy… there’d been a redhead on the way here…  
  
Dammit. No, no, no. Willow was his friend and all of this confusion in his head was only because he was aware that she was involved with Liam – that was it, completely and utterly it.  
  
Voices. At first he thought it was some amorous pair, but then that unmistakable feeling of ‘Slayer!’ registered and he picked up the scent of wolf that belonged to Oz. What were they doing here? Then he picked up the stench of hellhound. Something must have happened.  
  
It was obviously a good thing that he’d chosen this shortcut after all. Maybe they could use his help. He headed in the direction from which the voices and scents were coming and…  
  
He wished he hadn’t taken this route at all. Because there they were, Buffy and Oz – in each other’s arms.   
  
Hadn’t taken Oz very long to get over Willow, now had it?  
  
Why had that been his first thought?  
  
Moving with more than his usual stealth, Angel got away from them without attracting their notice, but in his haste, he wound up right outside the gymnasium… where the Prom was being held. Great.  
  
  
  
Cordelia’s barbs had taken their toll, well, the barbs and the tension from Liam’s obvious anger and loathing for Xander, and Wesley and Giles being all disapproving, and… yeah, Willow just had to get out for a minute. She’d given Liam the time-honoured and unimpeachable excuse that she needed to use the ladies room and ducked outside for some fresh air and some peace. She hated ‘We Are Family’ anyway. It was such a stupid song. Like families really stuck together. Her parents barely knew her.  
  
She was in a bad mood, wasn’t she? Why? After all, Liam had bought her a beautiful dress, rented a great limo, was trying so hard to give her a teenage dream. He loved her. He’d said so more than once – a lot more than once. What could be better than having a guy everyone drooled over love you and care for you and give you really neat sex? Okay, vampire, but hey, she was pretty much a non-human kind of girl, what with Malcolm and Oz and… well, Xander, but he dated demons, so…  
  
All right, could her thoughts please get off the merry-go-round right now? Or not, because she knew what her brain was trying to do for her and she had to say some really grateful things to it because it was being a kind and gentle organ, in its way, doing its best to keep out the thoughts she didn’t want to have.  
  
The ones about what she _didn’t_ feel for Liam.  
  
So preoccupied by anthropomorphizing her grey matter was she that she didn’t notice a large, tuxedo-clad obstacle in her path… and she bumped right into it.  
  
“Angel,” she said, as the victim of her clumsiness turned around. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Willow?” She was the last person he’d expected to find here – the last person he _wanted_ to find here – and she looked… “I could ask you the same question,” he responded, applauding himself for biting back the compliment which had been about to emerge. She’d never been lovelier; she outshone even the best of the sketches he’d created – the ones he’d destroyed with the click of a button.   
  
“Liam brought me. He figured I should get to do the whole Prom thing.” Now Angel knew what Liam had done with the money he’d given him. For a moment, he found himself wishing… But then he looked at Willow and he noticed that she seemed sad, for all the finery she wore and he wondered…   
  
“I guess you saw Buffy and Oz,” he said. The look of confusion that remark elicited made him want to kick himself.  
  
“They’re here? Oh good. That means they got rid of the hellhounds. Where are they?”  
  
Why did Angel look like a deer caught in the headlights? As much as Angel ever looked like that, anyway. Oh my god… “Did something happen?” She was terrified. Were they hurt? Or… No, they couldn’t be. Buffy and Oz could not be… “They’re okay, right?”  
  
He nodded. “They’re fine.” But if that was true, then why did he look so sad?  
  
How to tell her? Yes, she’d been the one to dump Oz – and that decision now looked to have been more right than ever – but her feelings would have to be hurt that he’d moved on so quickly with her best friend. Still, she had to be told and perhaps frankness would be best. “I saw them…back there,” he indicated the trees, “they were… they were kissing, Willow.”  
  
What? Buffy… and Oz? Oh god. Poor Angel. He had to be so devastated. Not like he’d dumped Buffy because he didn’t love her – he’d only done it for her own good. After all, despite what he’d said about thinking about moving on the other night, it was obvious Buffy was still the one girl in all the world for Angel. Why else would he be here? This had to be like a stake to his heart. “I’m so sorry,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly, “I am so, so sorry.”  
  
  
  
Luckily, Cordelia had gone off to make cow eyes at Wesley before his control snapped and her neck along with it, but Liam was bored stiff listening to Anya’s monotonous vengeance stories and even the fun of watching Xander turn green had begun to pall; he was getting restless. Where was Willow? Surely her ‘errand’ couldn’t take this long, not even if she had had some difficulty with her gown. His borrowed blood ran cold when he remembered her telling him about the hellhounds – the ones Buffy and that flea-bitten mongrel were supposed to dispatch. Had the wolf and his bitch failed? Had one of those hideous creatures attacked Willow?  
  
Getting up suddenly and not even bothering to make his excuses to the idiots with whom he was sitting, he hastened out of the gym and into the hall. No sign of Willow, but also no sign of any carnage. That was good. That was very good indeed. So maybe she really was exactly where she was supposed to be. With that hope, he headed straight for the bathrooms. Heedless of the squeals of teenage prudes, he stormed into the one labeled ‘Girls’.   
  
Willow wasn’t there.  
  
Now he was nigh to panicking. Where? Where was she? He looked each way down the hall, trying to decide out which door he should proceed. Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.  
  
The near one it was.  
  
  
  
Willow’s arms encircled him as she offered the comfort she obviously believed he needed and Angel wanted nothing more than to run away.  
  
He wanted nothing more than to hold her close.  
  
Here she was, being the kindest and most unselfish of friends and he was having inappropriate feelings for her and… his arms went around her. “I’m okay,” he lied. He was anything but okay. What he wanted so badly was to feel a mad rush of jealousy but the most he could manage was peevishness at Buffy replacing him so quickly and with Willow’s cast-off area rug at that. A part of him was even glad that she’d found someone she could have a real relationship with – that part of him that cared, but cared in a fond and friendly way, that part of him that respected Buffy and cherished their past but had erased her from his present and future.  
  
That part of him he had hoped to prove didn’t exist by holding Buffy in his arms tonight.  
  
That part of him that held onto Willow.  
  
“Willow? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Liam did his best not to show the fury he was feeling right now, seeing the way Angel was embracing his love.  
  
“Liam! I’m sorry. I was… I was feeling kind of dizzy and I came outside for some fresh air and Angel was here because he wanted to see Buffy, and he did only she was kissing Oz and…”  
  
“Buffy was kissing Oz?” Liam manufactured a look of sympathy as he hid his amusement at his counterpart’s plight. Being replaced by that mongrel – it just showed which of them was the better version, didn’t it? “I’m sorry.” He reached out and put a companionable hand on Angel’s arm… and a scent hit him. It was faint, but it was there, and it was all Liam could do to keep his fangs in their place and his eyes from flashing gold.  
  
Angel wanted Willow. Angel wanted what was _his_. “Do you want us to take you home? We have a limousine.” Willow smiled at him, innocent and guileless. Not that he’d needed any confirmation that Angel’s feelings were one-sided. She was pleased by his offer of friendship to his inferior.  
  
“Yeah. We could do that right now if you want.”  
  
Liam smiled, oozing treacle, as Angel accepted their offer with a half-hearted, “I don’t want you to ruin your evening on my account.”  
  
“What are friends for?” he and Willow said in tandem.   
  
Willow had her purse, so there wasn’t even a need to go back inside. Instead, Liam led them all back to the waiting car. Still smiling.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	46. Chapter Forty-Five

Feral (Chapter Forty-Five)  
  
  
  
Sooner or later, every kiss ended, and this one was no different, so now Buffy was standing here awkwardly, looking everywhere but at Oz, wondering what was going to happen and who was going to break the awkward silence.  
  
Much to her surprise, Oz was the one who spoke first. “That was nice.”  
  
Nice? She’d sort of thought it was better than that, and she was about to object when she remembered: Oz, guy, prone to understatement. That kept her tongue from outrunning her and possibly screwing things up. “Yeah,” she answered, working her way up to darting quick glances that sort of landed on him for a second before taking off for parts unknown.  
  
Then he surprised her again. “Look, I know you’re not over Angel. I’m not over Willow. But this? Us? I think it could be a good thing. If we give it a chance. Who knows?”  
  
That might have been the most mature and honest thing she’d ever heard from a guy – at least one who wasn’t Giles and wasn’t being fatherly – and it stopped her short. For a taciturn guy, Oz was pretty darn good at communicating. She’d grown accustomed to cryptic remarks and trying to interpret different kinds of silence – until the end, anyway, and endings… they weren’t relationships. This would be new; and maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. “You know me: Chance Girl.”  
  
“To the Prom?” he asked, holding out his hand.  
  
Buffy took it, but she had another idea first. “It’ll wait.” She pulled him to her for another kiss. “Mmm… nice,” she said when it was over. Oz chuckled.  
  
Then he took her hand and led her out of the trees.  
  
  
  
Watching as the limousine drove away and disappeared into the night, Angel wondered: Why hadn’t he asked them to stay? He didn’t want to be alone, and he thought maybe he’d be able to deal with all the turmoil he was experiencing about Willow if he could see her with Liam for awhile.  
  
But he’d said nothing when neither of them had moved to exit the vehicle with him, so here he was. With the kind of sigh which was becoming an annoying habit, he turned and headed to the house. House. That wasn’t exactly what it was, now was it? No, the word ‘house’ implied a certain hominess and warmth which were distinctly lacking in the large, somewhat-worse-for-wear building in which he stored his few possessions and lived his spare, lonely unlife.  
  
Ah, the joys of self-pity. He was certainly becoming well-acquainted with them these days. The irony being that he was feeling sorrier and sorrier for himself despite having been handed a reprieve of sorts from the curse which had made him a monk.  
  
If only he could say that the darkness consuming him was regret and guilt over Buffy… well, _all_ of it, anyway. Certainly some of the bleakness within was because he realized that if he’d fallen for _anyone_ but the Slayer, he might never have lost his soul at all, but… He wasn’t wishing that he could be with Buffy after all.  
  
He didn’t understand. He had loved her, he knew that, it was just… It was just that it hadn’t been real, had it? He’d loved the Slayer, had fallen in love with her purity and goodness and her sacred duty before he’d ever had a chance to even speak to _Buffy_. That hadn’t been any fairer to her than it had been to him; in fact, she’d probably been done the greater wrong. Maybe that was why fate had handed her solace the way it seemed. She and Oz… they made sense, and it hurt… because it didn’t.  
  
Jealousy should be consuming him, shouldn’t it? And in a sense it was only he wasn’t jealous of Oz… he was jealous that Buffy had found someone and he hadn’t – or at least he hadn’t found someone who wanted him back and…  
  
No. No. He was not traveling that road, not even in his thoughts.  
  
You know what he needed? Yeah, it was time for some porn.  
  
  
  
“Is Buffy Summers here tonight?”  
  
Those were the words that greeted her as she and Oz walked into the gym and she was taken aback. Oh god. Had they not gotten all the hellhounds? But wait, the question was coming from some guy on the stage. Okay, judging by the trophies she was seeing held by some of her classmates, they were giving out the awards, but what could _she_ possibly be getting? Most Likely to Date Her Best Friend’s Ex? ‘Cause hey, she was already there.  
  
Oh, the guy was talking again, which was sort of, but not quite, distracting her from the feel of Oz’s hand holding hers.  
  
“This is actually a new category. First time ever. I guess there were a lot of write-in ballots, and, um, the prom committee asked me to read this: We're not good friends. Most of us never found the time to get to know you, but that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you. We don't talk about it much, but it's no secret that Sunnydale High isn't really like other high schools. A lot of weird stuff happens here.”  
  
Some wisecracks were made by the crowd, but Buffy was caught between confusion and feeling good and now the stares she was getting from Xander and Giles and… well, most of her classmates. Then Oz smiled at her and she felt better.  
  
The dork on stage continued. "But, whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, you seemed to show up and stop it. Most of the people here have been saved by you, or helped by you at one time or another. We're proud to say that the Class of '99 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history. And we know at least part of that is because of you. So the senior class, offers its thanks, and gives you, uh, this."  
  
It was an umbrella, Buffy saw, as the guy – whose name she knew she should know, but didn’t – held it up… and it was covered in glitter. “It's from all of us, and it has written here: Buffy Summers, Class Protector."  
  
Wow. This was… Oz let go of her hand and she made her way to the stage. It was really a shock, the fact that everyone knew. Oh maybe they didn’t know everything, but they knew that there was stuff out there in the dark and that she was keeping them safe from it. She took her award with a hand that shook in a way that it never did when she held a stake. Halfway back to Oz, she wondered if she had said ‘thank you’. She should have. She had, hadn’t she?  
  
Oz was standing there, smiling at her, and she could feel the beginning of tears in her eyes. This was supposed to be a pale mockery of a Prom and instead… instead it was the best night she’d had in a long, long time.  
  
  
  
“You’re so beautiful.” Liam stared at Willow as they sat in the limousine. He’d intended to go back to her house, and a part of him wanted to, but her special evening had been cut short. Surely he could take her somewhere, someplace romantic, and someplace where he could treat her the way a man treated the woman he loved without risking trouble from her annoying ‘friends.’ He leaned towards the intercom and hit the button. “Take us to Dino’s,” he instructed.  
  
“Dino’s?”  
  
“It’s a restaurant and jazz club,” Liam explained, hoping as he said it that the place was the same as it had been in his world. The driver had accepted his direction without question, so at least that confirmed that it existed here.  
  
“But why…”  
  
“It’s too early for the night to be over.”  
  
What should she say? Because taking her out to a jazz club was a really sweet and romantic thing to do. “Thank you.” That was a good start, right? She hoped they weren’t overdressed; not like she had a whole bunch of experience going out to restaurants which didn’t have drive-through windows. Her parents had always gone to upscale restaurants without her, offering the excuse that she ‘wouldn’t enjoy it’. Ha. She knew the truth was that _they_ wouldn’t enjoy it if she were with them. Why had they had her anyway?  
  
“What are you thinking about?” Liam asked, and she realized that it must be pretty obvious that her mood had suddenly turned sad.  
  
“Nothing. I’ve just never been to a place like Dino’s before. I’m not sure how to act or anything.”  
  
Even with what little he knew of her parents, Willow’s revelation shouldn’t have shocked him, but it did. Clearly her family was well-off enough that she should have been a regular in the local fine dining establishments. Her parents… A part of him wished they were home right now so he could… But no. At least not for the present.  
  
The car was slowing and then stopped. “We’re here.”  
  
  
  
She should never have left the dance floor, but a visit to the ladies room had become necessary and now… now Xander had her cornered in the hall. “What’s going on with you and Oz?”  
  
If it wasn’t for her glittery toy surprise and the very guy she was about to be grilled about, this would really be a buzzkill. Especially since she wasn’t exactly sure what she should say. “What do you mean?” That was always an effective stall question, right?  
  
“You know, it’s a good thing Willow left before you guys showed up, or she’d be really hurt.”  
  
Obviously he hadn’t gotten the ‘Willow is okay with…’ Wait. “Willow was here?”  
  
“With Liam. They left pretty quick though… Cordelia couldn’t resist the chance to get a few digs in. I think Willow was upset.”  
  
Oh. Well that sort of drizzled on Buffy’s parade. Poor Willow. Why hadn’t she told Buffy she was coming, though? Of course, what came out of her mouth was, “I didn’t even know she had a dress.”  
  
Xander might have become way too used to girl talk, she realized, because he didn’t even bat an eye. “Yeah. She looked great, actually. It was a pretty swanky dress.”  
  
Swanky? Really? She wondered why Willow would have gone all out when… Okay, her spidey senses were going off. Willow. Liam. Fancy gown. These three things did not belong together. Memories of reading Willow’s mind returned – that kiss… Liam _was_ cursed the same way as Angel, right? God how she hoped so because Willow did _not_ need to become involved with that guy.  
  
She said nothing of her fears to Xander, however, instead saying, “I wish I could have seen her.”  
  
“Yeah, well I’m sure she’ll show you the dress if you ask her.” He paused and then, “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you changed the subject. I’m guessing that means there’s something you don’t want me to know.”  
  
Xander’s intelligence was grossly underestimated by standardized tests, but she wasn’t getting off the deception train just yet. “What makes you think that?” Great job there, Buffy. If your voice was any higher, only a passing golden retriever would be able to hear it.  
  
“The evasive thing – oh, and now the fact that you sound like Willow on caffeine.” Another long pause and Xander’s eyes took on a sad, betrayed cast. “But don’t worry, I think I can fill in the blanks. You and Oz… there _is_ a you and Oz now, huh.”  
  
He was really hurt and it made Buffy’s heart ache. Maybe it was arrogant but this made her all the more glad that he and Willow had broken things off. She couldn’t have lived with herself if Xander had ever looked at her like this while dating Willow.  
  
Acknowledging his jealousy would only rub salt in his wounds, so she didn’t. Instead she simply and directly responded to his conjecture with a confirming, “Yes. I mean, before tonight there wasn’t, but now… yeah – there’s an us.”  
  
Would explaining more help? She didn’t know, but she figured – hey, they were almost adults, right? This might be the perfect time to try some adult-style communication. “Look, I know this is weird and sort of sudden, but… We’re not going into this lying to each other. A part of me still loves Angel, just like a part of him still loves Willow, but that doesn’t mean…”  
  
Xander held up a hand, the signal for her to stop talking, so she did. “I get it. A rebound thing. I get it. I guess maybe I just wish you’d bounced…”  
  
Before he could say something Buffy really didn’t want to hear, they were joined by a third party who could only have been welcome at this precise moment. Anya came bounding over to Xander’s side and grabbed his arm. “There you are. I need you to come back inside with me this instant. There’s a slow song playing and I have to dance with you. It’s a vital part of my Prom experience.” With a glare but not another word, Anya dragged Xander back through the gym doors and into the Prom. Buffy would have laughed if it wasn’t for what had happened just before.  
  
She slid down the wall and sat on the floor, heedless of her dress. Life was a minefield and every time she stepped carefully to avoid one, she ended up setting off another one she hadn’t known was there. This was one of those world-weary moments grown-ups had, wasn’t it… and she really wished it could have waited until after Graduation. She was still in high school, dammit. Wasn’t she entitled to blunder along carelessly for a few more days?  
  
Of course she wasn’t. She was the Slayer and that was bound to bleed over into that personal life she wasn’t even supposed to have. No self-centered cluelessness for Buffy. That was for the Cordelia Chases and the Anya...whatever-her-last-name-was-now-that-she-was-human-ses.

Her descent into premature wrinkle-dom was interrupted by a pair of shiny loafers entering her peripheral vision. “Hey.” Then she was joined on the floor by her date. “Wondered where you’d gone.”

“Xander kinda of cornered me out here. He wanted to know if you and I… Well, anyway, he knows now.” Was Oz okay with that? Had he wanted this to be sort of secret for awhile?

“Good.” Oz’s hand was over hers now, both resting on her leg.

She suddenly realized she’d been holding her breath and exhaled heavily. “Good?”

“Yeah.” He smiled softly and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Should she tell him about…? Yeah, she should. “Willow was here.” Oz said nothing and she continued. “Xander said she was here with Liam, but they left, probably while we were…” Her voice trailed off as she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Do you wish she’d been here when… do you wish we hadn’t…?”

The first answer she got was a soft kiss on the forehead. “No.”

“No you don’t wish she’d been here or no…?”

“Both.”

“Oh.”

“I still miss her,” he said gently, “the same way you…”

“Still miss Angel,” she finished for him. “I guess you probably feel the same way I would if it had been Angel who’d been here and left before we showed up. But I’d still be glad we…”

“Me too.”

The kiss that followed wasn’t on the forehead. And that was just fine.

 

 

Clicking off the video he was watching in mid-fuck, Angel ran his hand through his hair in frustration. This should have been just the ticket – a hot blonde of the Darla and Buffy type, a dark-haired guy… lots of action. He should be relieving his tension nicely right now instead of feeling even more. Hell, he was only half-hard. What was wrong with him? Had prolonged celibacy led to impotence? That would be just like fate – handing him a free pass to have sex and then rendering him physically incapable of following through.

With an annoyed growl, he closed down his computer and got up off his bed. He was already naked, might as well take a shower.

He turned the water up as hot as it would go, waited and then got in, enjoying the feeling of scalding water against his skin, the way the steam filled the air and made it thick and heavy. He relaxed, letting the massaging shower spray work the kinks out. This was easily more arousing than the porn had been and Angel’s body responded. Well, at least he wasn’t impotent.

Letting himself go, he put the soap up and then reached down to stroke himself – not picturing anyone in particular, just a body – there – with him. In his mind it was a woman, soft-skinned and slim-hipped, submitting to him, letting him do what he would with her.

_He pushes her, face first, against the tiled wall and he relishes her soft cry. “You want this?” His voice is a growl and his demon is barely restrained._

_“Yes.” Her voice is soft, barely audible, but permission is permission and he pulls her body into position and thrusts inside._

_She’s tight and hot and the soft cries grow louder as he thrusts – harder and harder – his hands digging into the delicate skin of her hips. There’ll be marks on her body for days… at least. The thought of that makes him even hotter. “You love it, don’t you?” It’s not really a question._

_Her scream of completion is his answer, and he loses the battle with his demon to ridges and fangs and golden eyes. His eyes focus on the hair that hides her face from his gaze… the water-darkened red…_

And then he came, violently and with a cry that echoed the one in his fantasy… he’d found release with a vision of Willow’s hair… a vision of _Willow_ … a vision of taking her, hard and fast and demonic.

With an angry twist, he turned the water sharply to cold, the bite of the sudden, unpleasant change of temperature not nearly the scourging he deserved, but it was the best he could do for now. He rinsed himself off quickly and stepped out of the shower.

He wanted Willow, didn’t he? What the hell was he going to do?

 

 

To be continued…


	47. Chapter Forty-Six

Feral (Chapter Forty-Six)  
  
  
  
Wine. Willow wasn’t used to it, and she wasn’t even sure she liked it, but she sipped politely as the music played. It was jazz, so she had no idea what the song was, but it was nice. This was a very grown-up evening, wasn’t it? The food had been good, that was for sure. She’d never had a lasagna like the one she’d had tonight. Her whole experience of Italian food had been pretty much limited to Chef Boyardee, pizza, and the kind of spaghetti served in places that had arcade games. The food here was nothing like that. No, the food was as elegant as the atmosphere – dark wood, tablecloths, and waiters who spoke in hushed tones and deferred to them as if they were royalty. She’d felt clumsy and awkward even getting into the booth and she was so glad Liam had been able to navigate ordering and choosing the wine. This was one more arena she was going to have to learn how to function in, though, wasn’t it? Because someday soon she’d be a professional woman and she’d be taking people to places like this on a regular basis.  
  
“Thank you,” she said, her voice softer than usual in deference to her surroundings. “I really like this restaurant.”  
  
Liam smiled. He knew he’d chosen well by the way she’d devoured her meal, but he appreciated the confirmation. “I wasn’t sure it would be here, but I’m glad it is.”  
  
“Me too.” Her smile was every bit as delectable to him as her dinner had been to her and he smiled in return.  
  
“We’ll have to come here again sometime.” He reached over and took her hand. “A woman like you deserves to be wined and dined.”  
  
Even in the low light, he could see the blush reddening her cheeks; she was still so unused to compliments. He meant what he said. She belonged in places like this – in even finer places than this – and he longed to treat her as she should be. Money was an obstacle though. Angel had it all…and what galled him the more was that the bastard didn’t even use it.   
  
He shook himself inwardly. Now was not the time for angry or depressing thoughts. No, now was the time to enjoy the company of his love. He wished they could dance, but no one else was on the small dance floor and he knew Willow’s aversion to being conspicuous. Well, he could content himself with gazing into her eyes.  
  
The waiter reappeared. “Would you care for coffee? Dessert?”  
  
“Tiramisù for the lady. Another glass of amarone for me.” Tiramisù was a classic and he knew she’d enjoy it. The waiter nodded and departed. The waiter had earned a good tip, having not raised an eyebrow when Liam failed to order any food for himself either for dinner or dessert. But then, perhaps he wasn’t the only vampire who patronized this place. The wine list was excellent and the music was marvelous.  
  
“Tiramisù?” Willow asked. She’d heard of it, but she had no idea what it was or what it would taste like. She smiled at Liam and took another sip of her wine, wondering why Liam had ordered a different one for himself than he had for her, but still too timorous to ask. It was probably something she should already know. As for the tiramisù… she’d kinda been doing the ‘new thing’ thing a lot lately and it seemed to be working for her. “I can’t wait to try it.”  
  
  
  
The limo pulled up to Buffy’s house and she and Oz decided to allow the driver to open their door before getting out. They deserved the pomp and circumstance. So they waited and the driver did the whole routine – including a last strange look at them, possibly because they were dressed in their Prom finery instead of what they’d been wearing when he picked them up – before getting back in his car and driving away.  
  
“Pretty good Prom.” Oz was holding her hand and it was clear from the soft smile that the understatement hid some much stronger sentiments – sentiments Buffy absolutely shared.  
  
“Yeah.” She twirled her sparkly umbrella, almost getting teary again. The Slayer’s job was by definition supposed to be thankless, but tonight just went to show that she was not your average Slayer. “Still sort of weird, you know? My secret identity being so very not-exactly-a-secret. But good weird. Very good weird. Kinda like…”  
  
Oz leaned in and kissed her softly. “Me too.”  
  
The light was on in her living room and Buffy saw the draperies move. Oh goody. Looked like she had some explaining to do. “Wanna come in for the post-date grilling?” Uh-oh. She’d said ‘date’, hadn’t she? Guess this was, though, and Oz didn’t seem all put-off or anything, so she figured it hadn’t been the wrong thing to say.   
  
He kept hold of her hand and she let him lead her to the house… and then inside… where her Mom was waiting…  
  
Smiling.  
  
Okay, that was unexpected. Buffy wasn’t complaining though. “So, you two, how was the Prom?”  
  
  
  
Home at last. As much as Liam had enjoyed squiring Willow around town, he had been looking forward to being alone with her too… to peeling that lovely gown from her lithe body… to showing her just how much he cherished and desired her.   
  
He opened the front door, allowing Willow to enter and then following her inside. This house. The décor was dismally bourgeois. Again he wished he had access to his money so he could set the two of them up in the style Willow deserved. Inside he was still seething at the thought of Angel, that pathetic shadow, hoarding all that money that he obviously never spent. What Liam would do…  
  
Now was not the time for such brooding; not when he was alone with his love. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her passionately. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”  
  
Boy, he sure didn’t believe in waiting, did he? Okay, Willow wasn’t going to say no, but this… Maybe it was just the weirdness of anyone wanting her like this. Oz had practically run screaming in the opposite direction at the thought of having sex with her that one time she’d tried to seduce him and here Liam was barely able to let her out of bed.   
  
Were Oz and Buffy having sex?   
  
Whoa was that a wacky thought – especially since she was a lot more with the curiosity then the jealousy. A whole enormous lot more. She figured maybe she was even happy for them. And hey, if they did make with the naked, naughty fun, at least this time Buffy could wake up and…  
  
Oh god. She hadn’t even given a thought to poor Angel. He would be so hurt if Buffy and Oz… hopefully they were going to be really discreet if they had sex, because she hated the thought of Angel suffering. It was bad enough that he’d seen them kissing.  
  
And speaking of kissing… Liam was kissing her again. This time he didn’t seem to be interested in stopping for conversation either. Willow wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. The way his hands were moving over her body… she wasn’t thinking about Angel… or Buffy… or Oz. No, not anymore.  
  
  
  
Tossing and turning – why did people do it? It didn’t help. Sleep was as elusive as it had been before he had tangled himself in his sheets. Oh how Angel wished he could blame his restlessness on trying to sleep at an unnatural hour, but let’s face it – that was a lie. He could switch to a human schedule with practiced ease these days – the necessities of aiding Buffy in her twenty-four hour fight against evil had seen to that.   
  
No, what was to blame was his unexpected, inexplicable, and unwelcome desire for Willow Rosenberg. How the hell had it even happened? She wasn’t blonde, she was anything but voluptuous, her manner was as awkward as could be… she was Jewish.   
  
He chuckled ruefully at how desperate he had to be to even think of that last point. His devotion to the Catholic faith in which he was raised had died long before he had. Besides, it didn’t matter. Because whether he understood it or not, the thrall in which Willow held him was there and it wasn’t going away – not easily.   
  
But she’d never be his, would she? No, his counterpart had seen her – truly seen her – before he had and he’d taken her for his own… probably in every way Angel was currently imagining. Were they coupling even now? In the limo? Or at Willow’s house, in that girlish bedroom of hers? Was she on her knees, taking him in her mouth? Or did Liam have her all fours, pounding into her and…  
  
No! He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. His friendship with Willow was important to him. She was, after all, the first real friend he’d had in… ever, if he was honest. He couldn’t allow it to be destroyed by pointless lust. The same went for his fragile friendship with Liam.   
  
Anyway, maybe his feelings were just a byproduct of having discovered the truth about the curse in tandem with learning about Liam and Willow’s relationship. Yes! That was it. That had to be it. And that meant there was a cure.  
  
Angel needed to get laid.  
  
Getting up out of bed, he headed for his closet. There were several hours left before sunrise and a few bars within walking distance. He was a good-looking guy. Buy some hot young thing a few drinks and nature would take its course. After that… well, he’d be free of the inappropriate thoughts and he and Willow and Liam would be the best of friends.  
  
Now only one dilemma remained: the white silk shirt or the grey?  
  
  
  
“That was unexpected.” And again Oz demonstrated his vast talent for understatement. Her Mom had done everything but drag out bridal magazines and suggest baby names. Big change from the awkwardness of the other night.  
  
But then again she’d had time to get used to Buffy going out with her best friend’s recent ex.  
  
Also, Oz wasn’t Angel.   
  
Buffy figured that had a whole lot to do with the ‘glory hallelujah.’  
  
“Not as unexpected as you might think,” Buffy gently contradicted, before adding – pretty needlessly - “She really likes you.”  
  
“I kinda got that vibe.”  
  
Buffy giggled. “Don’t worry. I’m not expecting a ring right away.” But then something occurred to her –her Mom’s way-excessive enthusiasm – and her manner turned serious. “I mean it, you know. I’m not trying to make this all serious or anything.”  
  
Oz reached out and took her hand. “I know.” They were standing by the van, conveniently out of sight of Buffy’s front window. He leaned towards her, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead he touched his forehead to hers and sighed so softly she almost didn’t hear him. “You’re pretty amazing,” he said, only slightly more audibly than that sigh.  
  
“You’re pretty great yourself.”  
  
Then there was a kiss. It was quick and gentle, but she knew it wasn’t an ending, so she didn’t feel any sense of anxiety when he got into the van. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said before driving away. She knew he meant it. With a smile still on her face, Buffy went back into the house.  
  
  
  
This was the first time Willow had tried being on top and it was… it was great, but she’d expected to feel… more in control. But Liam’s hands were on her hips, guiding her movements, setting the pace, and she felt more submissive than she wanted. Still, there was no denying that this felt amazing. The way he was thrusting up to meet her – he was hitting all the right spots for sure.  
  
It was just… She didn’t love him. She’d known that, but she hadn’t fully and clearly admitted it to herself until right now – at what had to be the most inconvenient and wretchedly wrong possible moment. She was sexually attracted to him, she cared about him as a friend, but she didn’t love him.   
  
She didn’t think she ever would.  
  
Closing her eyes, she did her best to lose herself in the physical, in the way Liam felt inside her, touching her… Loving her.  
  
Oh god. She was the most terrible person in the whole world. She kept her eyes closed and tried to forget.  
  
Being with Willow like this… it was the most profound experience of Liam’s life – and his unlife. The way it felt to be inside her… it mirrored the way she was inside _him_ , filling his heart and soul, becoming the only thing that mattered.  
  
More than his redemption.  
  
He gripped her hips tightly, setting a faster pace, wanting to take her over the edge before him. Looking up, he saw the sheen of perspiration on her face, heard her cry, felt her walls tighten around him. She was there. He let go and he came – hard and strong. “I love you,” he said softly as she tumbled off him and lay on the bed beside him. “I love you so much.”  
  
  
  
Angel hadn’t lost his touch. The bar had been more packed than he expected and he’d had a reasonable selection from which to choose, finally settling on the one who was fumbling with his belt here in the alley right now. She was pretty, in a slightly-worse-for-wear fashion – much like the tavern maids of whose favours he’d so often availed himself back in the day – and very, very obliging. More to the point, she was blonde, ample of bosom – nothing like Willow at all – and he was nicely hard.   
  
Two rather colourful-looking drinks were all it had taken to get where he was now: trousers down and a well-practiced mouth working his length. His hands wound their way into his benefactress’s hair and he moaned in appreciation of her enthusiastic efforts. This was not the first time – or twentieth, he’d wager – that she’d exercised her skills in this alley. The asphalt seemed to give her no discomfort whatsoever.   
  
“Mmm… that’s it,” he offered by way of encouragement. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the wall and tried to lose himself in the slide of those red-rouged lips – up and down and up and down, the pace increasing incrementally.   
  
It was good. Really good.   
  
But after all this time, shouldn’t it have been great? It wasn’t, after all, as if his partner was some awkward novice. She knew what she was about and that was a fact. In truth, if, all those centuries ago in his human days, he’d had her back behind the tavern, he’d have been crowing to the high heavens.   
  
Against his will, an image – fantasy – formed in his mind and it finally got him where he needed to go. “Willow,” he groaned, spilling himself inside the mouth of the girl on her knees before him.  
  
His response was the sound of her spitting his spend from her mouth and the feel of the palm of her hand making impact with his cheek. “My name is Staci!” she yelled. He said nothing, merely watched as she straightened her clothes and stormed back into the bar.  
  
Pulling his trousers back up and fastening them, he wondered what he’d done to deserve this – what Liam _hadn’t_ done that _he_ had grabbed the brass ring… and the whole damn carousel with it. Pointless, he knew, so – with a shake of his head and a reminder to himself never to come back to this bar – he made his way back to the mansion. Hopefully, he’d at least be able to sleep now.  
  
But he doubted it.  
  
  
  
Willow awoke in the morning, body sated and mind in disarray, needing… to be alone? Maybe. She certainly needed to be away from Liam.   
  
Back in the bathroom, another session with the face in the mirror – the face of a horrible, horrible person. She’d broken up with Oz, who she had loved, slept with Liam, who she didn’t… but who loved her. A lot.   
  
Oh god. It would hurt him so much if he knew… But didn’t she have to tell him? Was it fair to let him believe… But then there was everything he’d endured. All that torture and pain…  
  
…At the hands of someone who looked just like her. Who _was_ her, at least she was in that terrible other world. Maybe they weren’t so different, huh? Both using Liam for sex… both hurting him. Okay, she hadn’t broken out the chains or the matches or the holy water, but wasn’t that just a difference of degree?  
  
What she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry, but she knew her sobs would attract Liam’s attention – not what she needed right now. If only she could go to Buffy. A shoulder for that crying and some honest advice would be so…  
  
But she couldn’t. Buffy was one of the last people she could go to, wasn’t she?   
  
That didn’t mean, though, that there was no one she could talk to.   
  
Going into her parent’s room, she put on a pair of her Mom’s jeans and one of her Dad’s sweatshirts, then padded downstairs, where her muddy sneakers were waiting by the back door. After writing a note for Liam, telling him she’d gone to the library to research, she slipped out the door.  
  
  
  
Waking in a state of great annoyance from the fitful sleep into which he’d finally managed to fall, it took Angel a moment to realize what had roused him.  
  
Someone was in the mansion.  
  
He got up quickly and threw on the clothes from last night which were still lying on his floor. Now was not the time to worry about the nattiness of his appearance. Hurrying downstairs, he saw the intruder in his front room. Dammit. The last person in the world he needed to see right now. Was she an emissary from Hell sent to plague him?  
  
His first impulse was to be brusque and discourteous and tell her to go away.  
  
But no, for all that she might unknowingly haunt his dreams and fantasies, she was his friend and he couldn't bring himself to be rude to her. He schooled his features into a guileless expression of welcome.  
  
“Hey, Willow.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	48. Chapter Forty-Seven

Feral (Chapter Forty-Seven)  
  
  
  
Boy, Angel sure looked disheveled. Had he slept in…? Wait a minute. That wasn’t what he was wearing last night, so why…? But you know, it was really none of her business so Willow decided not to say anything.  
  
It looked sort of good on him, though, she had to say. He looked kind of like the detectives in the wrinkled raincoats from the old movies she used to love so much. Had Buffy ever seen him like this?  
  
“How are you?” Was that a safe question? She was really worried about him, because, even if the rumpled clothes gave him a sort of cool, tough, unconcerned air, she had a hunch this was not a fashion statement – this was the apparel of heartbreak. Buffy and Oz making with the smoochies had to have hurt him more then he’d let on last night. She and Liam should have stayed with him for awhile.   
  
One more thing to feel guilty about. Speaking of which…  
  
But was it even right to dump this on Angel? What should she do?  
  
“I’m fine,” Angel answered, wondering what had brought Willow here. She had looked cheerful at first glance, but now – now he could see anxiety and distress under that plastered-on smile and he was concerned. Had Liam done something to her? “Are you okay?”  
  
Obviously his assessment of her mental state was quite perceptive as her eyes widened for a moment before she tried to shrug off his concerns. “Yeah. Sure. I’m ‘Okay Girl’. That’s me.”  
  
There was something so endearing about her ineptitude at hiding her feelings from him and he… No! He was not going to think like that. He was her friend. Friend, friend, friend… and she needed one at the moment, that much was abundantly clear. “It’s all right,” he offered gently. “You can tell me.”  
  
It seemed that was all the encouragement she needed, because in a split second, she crumbled. “I don’t love him,” she wailed. “I don’t know why, but I don’t.”  
  
  
  
Waking up alone. As much as Liam had relished solitude in that cell from which he’d so recently escaped, he didn’t enjoy it now. He much preferred the feel of Willow’s warmth against him.   
  
It was Sunday so he was surprised that he felt her absence from the house, but there was a note for him in the kitchen – she had gone to do some research. That made sense and he could hardly fault her for it. The Ascension was fast approaching and they still didn’t know nearly enough to stop it.  
  
Might as well see what he could do to help… but somehow, he just didn’t feel up to the banalities of parsing the data on websites at the moment. Despite his immensely satisfying lovemaking with Willow, he was still tense and angry.  
  
Angel. That puling, wretched imitation of himself. He wanted Liam’s woman.  
  
Opening up his drawing program, Liam took refuge in his art, letting his fingers shape his fantasy into black lines and familiar forms. It was soothing, calming, and he was grateful for the outlet sketching offered him… and for the way it allowed him to create a blueprint of a dream he intended to make come true.  
  
Minutes passed and the vision took shape, and when he had what seemed like perfection, he sat back and drank it in.  
  
His teeth were in Angel’s neck… and his hated rival was crumbling to dust under his fangs.  
  
  
  
Last night had been so much better than she’d ever imagined it could be and Buffy had slept more peacefully than she had in many weeks. Her glittery umbrella shone from her dresser-top and the sun streamed through her curtains and life? Life just seemed so much brighter and more full of hope than ever. She sat up on her bed, stretched, yawned, smiled… and then she remembered the Mayor.   
  
Well, phooey on him. Buffy was finally getting over her heartbreak and she would be damned if she let Mayor McCreepy rain on her happy day. They’d defeat him. They always beat the bad guys. That was what the good guys did. No sense in changing the rules now.   
  
Just then the phone rang. Huh. Who’d be calling this early? She reached over and answered it.  
  
“Hey.” Oh gosh. Oz. He’d said he’d call, but she hadn’t actually expected the call this soon. It was a really nice surprise.  
  
“Hey yourself.”   
  
“Got a Dingoes rehearsal. Thought you might want to come.”  
  
Oh gosh. She’d almost forgotten about his band. But yeah, “Sure. Sounds like fun. Do I have time to eat breakfast first?”  
  
  
  
Willow was in his arms and it was enough to try the resolve of a saint, which Angel most certainly wasn’t. Her tears helped, but the fact that she was crying because she didn’t love someone else rather diminished their chastening effect. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly, hating himself for the happiness he felt. The warmth of her skin… as he rubbed her back he could feel it seep into him through the sweatshirt she wore. Whose was it anyway? Because it occurred to him that he’d never seen her in such a bland garment. He only wished it made her less attractive to him.  
  
“It’s so awful. I’m a horrible person.” She was obviously distraught over not reciprocating Liam’s feelings and Angel knew her well enough to understand. Not for her the sort of encounter he’d sought without a second thought last night. There was something incongruously old-fashioned about her. What he was still trying to make sense of was how she’d wound up losing her virginity to someone she didn’t love in the first place… and the thoughts in the back of his mind on that topic were disquieting. Liam couldn’t have manipulated her, pressed his advantage of propinquity, used guilt… could he?  
  
No, Angel wasn’t going to allow those thoughts to continue. He brought his focus back to the distressed young woman in his arms. “You’re not a horrible person,” and he meant that sincerely. Whatever had led her into Liam’s bed, it was nothing that cheapened her; he knew who she was. Of course that thought led him right back into blaming Liam somehow…  
  
Willow was vulnerable and after everything she’d seen and experienced she was still so naïve in many ways. It was easy to see someone using that and also the compassion and kindliness of her nature. He didn’t want to believe that Liam could be capable of that, but it was hard to imagine otherwise, not when Willow was sobbing in his arms over what she believed to be her own transgressions – transgressions which hardly correlated with the girl he knew.   
  
After a few more moments, her emotions seemed to be getting back under her control, her sobs quieting and tears drying up. “He loves me,” she said softly, and not for the first time. “He loves me and I don’t understand why I don’t love him back.”  
  
What was he supposed to say to that? All he could think of were hoary clichés about how mysterious love was and he was disgusted with himself for being unable to come up with anything wiser and less shopworn. He kept his arms around her as he struggled with his own silence… and the mixed emotions of his own which were no small trouble. “You can’t force yourself to love someone just because they love you,” he finally pulled out of his meager storehouse of insight, “Love doesn’t work that way.”  
  
His words rang in his ears and he thought maybe there was something there after all. He had some experience with… “Darla loved me,” he said in a voice so low it was barely loud enough for his companion to hear. “Maybe not as much as Liam’s… but she did. Even after I got my soul, but I…” He stopped for a moment, caught in the green eyes staring up into his. There was no judgment there. Now he knew exactly why… No, he didn’t know anything about Liam’s feelings, did he? But he knew his own. “I used to tell myself that no demons are capable of love and that was why… But it’s not true, you know. Spike loves Drusilla, Darla loved me. The fact that I couldn’t love without a soul… I think maybe the demon was closer to who I was when I was human than… Whose soul do I have? Sometimes I wonder…”  
  
What happened next… it was what he wanted more than anything… dreaded more than anything… it was heaven… and it was disaster.  
  
He was kissing Willow.  
  
Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. She was kissing Angel. Why was she kissing Angel? She should _not_ be kissing Angel. She especially should not be _enjoying_ kissing Angel… but she was. She tried to tell herself that it was because he looked like Liam, but that didn’t really work since they didn’t exactly kiss alike. Liam was all dominant and aggressive and Angel…  
  
Yeah, he was dominant too, but it wasn’t so aggressive. It was like… Oh she didn’t know what it was like, except that it was different and…  
  
Better, okay? It was better. But how had it even happened? One minute she was crying about not loving Liam, then Angel was telling her… none of that explained anything. Except that she was definitely a skanky ho. Which was probably why Angel was kissing her, huh? He probably figured if she was so willing to sleep with one vampire she didn’t love, then hey, maybe she’d hop in the sack with another one, especially since he looked just like the one she was having sex with already. How could she blame him? But no. She was not prepared to be Angel’s first experience of safe sex since they’d discovered the truth about the curse. She wasn’t exactly a good girl, but she wasn’t a completely bad one yet either.  
  
Summoning all her strength, Willow pushed Angel away. “I can’t do this. I am sorry if you got the wrong impression of me, but I totally can’t do this.”   
  
With that, she tried to leave, but Angel reached out and grabbed her arm. “Wait.”  
  
  
  
So here it was, a sunny Sunday afternoon, and Buffy was sitting on a rickety chair in a dirty garage listening to the Dingoes stumble through their songs… and she was having a great time. So this was it was like when your guy could be out in daylight, huh?   
  
It was fun and low key – as well as _off_ -key – and it was as different from spending time with Angel as she could possibly imagine. Maybe more. She wasn’t used to a guy who had friends, who had interests outside of fighting evil – unless reading pretentious novels counted… did it count? – whom you could just be with in a really casual way.   
  
When she’d fallen in love with Angel, she’d thought that all that intensity and drama was what she wanted – was what romance was all about – but now? Now she thought maybe there were options on the non-platonic menu and, whatever ended up happening between her and the werewolf currently tuning his guitar, she felt grateful to have learned that.  
  
Oz looked at her and smiled. She smiled back.   
  
It was another much-better-than-expected day.  
  
  
  
Angel couldn’t let Willow leave, not when it was readily apparent that she’d misunderstood… all right, not completely, because he would have happily taken her to bed and he couldn’t deny that, but he could tell that she believed it was because he thought she was a loose woman and that was anything but the case. “It’s not like that,” he explained. “I don’t think…”  
  
“That I’m a slut?” Willow finished and he hated himself for the pain in each word.  
  
“No!” He paused, getting himself under control when he noticed that his vehemence had unnerved her. “How could you think…? Willow, you’re the finest woman I know. I could never think of you like that.” Taking her hand, he tried to ignore the way she obviously wished he wasn’t touching her as he confessed the truth. “I care about you. More than I should.”  
  
Oh. _Oh_. This was… wrong? Unexpected? Badness on a grand, even epic, scale? All of the above and so much more? Yeah, she’d take that latter answer. “I…” She had no idea what to say, and while that wasn’t a new thing, what _was_ new was that she didn’t say something anyway. She just stopped after that one pronoun, very conscious of Angel’s hand around hers and completely confused about… well… _everything_.   
  
So for what felt like twenty or thirty years, she and Angel just stood there. Looking at each other. And holding hands. Then a wave of guilt came crashing over her and she managed to pull her hand away as she finally had something to say. “Liam loves me,” she choked out, “I can’t hurt him.”  
  
She was right, of course, and Angel knew that, though a part of him wondered if what she was also saying was that she didn’t have feelings for _him_. Why should she, anyway? They’d only just become friends and he knew that in her mind he was still Buffy’s, even if she did know that Buffy was moving on with Oz.   
  
Besides, if she didn’t love Liam, why on Earth would she feel more amorous towards _him_? “I’m sorry.” What else was there to say?   
  
“I told Liam I was going to the library to do some research. I should probably do that.”  
  
Why he said what he did next, he didn’t know. “I’ll go with you. We can take the tunnels.”   
  
What surprised him more was that Willow said, “Sure. Okay,” and then followed him as he led her to the entrance to those very tunnels. His hands on her waist as he helped her down were the last physical contact he had with her… but he felt it all the way to the high school.  
  
  
  
Rehearsal was over, she’d turned down the offer of a beer from the guys – as did Oz, much to her surprise and relief – and now everyone was dispersing. Buffy watched Oz put his guitar back in its case and then he took her hand and led her out of the garage and back to where he’d parked the van. “What did you think?” he asked.  
  
“You guys sounded great,” she offered enthusiastically. Okay, so she was exaggerating, but what did she know about music anyway?  
  
Oz snorted. “You don’t lie well.”  
  
“Hey! Quality is… subjective. And anyway, that’s why you rehearse, right?” That made him smile and she was happy…  
  
Or she was until they reached the van. Because they weren’t alone. “Hey there, B.” Faith. In the flesh. The skanky, leather-clad flesh. She was looking them both over in that way Buffy hadn’t missed at all. “Well look at you, getting’ all cozy with your best friend’s man. Guess you picked up some tricks from me after all.”  
  
“What the hell do you want?” Her posture stiffened slightly as instinct readied her for battle.  
  
There it was again, that look. Her eyes were sliding up and down Oz and Buffy felt very protective and proprietary all of a sudden. Faith spoke… well, purred was more like it, “I just want to know something.” She leaned against the van, hipshot, and then licked her lips. “’Cause I’ve always been… curious, you know, about werewolves. Does he knot?”  
  
Buffy could sense Oz almost shrinking beside her and she could feel his pain and embarrassment through their joined hands. It was all she could do not to pounce on Faith. But she knew that fighting angry was a recipe for disaster. She’d make the bitch pay, though; of that there was no doubt whatsoever. She took her hand out of Oz’s then wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “He’s _all_ man,” she cooed, “and believe me, that’s more than enough.” She let her tongue dart out to touch Oz’s earlobe.  
  
Faith seemed unmoved by the display. “Too bad. Bet I could bring out the beast in him.” She focused her eyes on Oz. “If you ever want to know what it’s like to fuck a _real_ Slayer, you know where to find me.”  
  
“Yeah, pretty sure he knows where the truck stop is.” That told her where to head in and Buffy didn’t regret saying it a bit, especially when Faith’s expression twisted with humiliation – only for a split second, but long enough to see… and to savour.   
  
“His loss,” Faith quipped lamely, before striding off with a patently false carefree stride.  
  
As much as Buffy was enjoying the fact that she’d managed to give Faith a bit of her own back, she realized that there had to have been a reason for her very own evil doppelganger’s sudden appearance. Apparently she wasn’t the only one. “What do you think that was about?”   
  
“Not sure. But there has to be a reason. She didn’t just show up to see if you guys wrote any new songs.”  
  
Oz nodded. “She’s looking for a weak spot.”   
  
Wow. That made sense. She’d learned something, not enough, but she’d known something about the changes in the group before she’d even shown up here. And she thought she had some ammunition now, because Buffy hadn’t made the mistake of disclosing… “She doesn’t know…”  
  
“About me and Willow being over? Guess not,” he said sagely.  
  
“That could be a good thing. Let her aim for an Achilles heel that isn’t… actually a heel.” Okay, she tripped over that metaphor badly. Oz was chuckling behind his hand. He stopped quickly, though, and said nothing. She liked him more than ever.  
  
She got her head back in the game quickly. “We probably should let everybody know about this and about…”  
  
“This?” Oz asked, right before he planted the softest of kisses on her lips.  
  
“Yeah,” she sighed happily. “We better head for the library. Everybody’s probably there. We still have to figure out the Ascension.” She watched as Oz loaded his guitar into the back of the van, waiting for him to open her door for her the way he always did.  
  
But he didn’t, not right away. Instead, he took her hand again. “I just want to say thanks… for…” he didn’t finish the sentence and there was no way Buffy would ever expect him to.  
  
She snorted and shrugged as if it was nothing. “She’s an idiot. And she’s evil. Don’t pay any attention to her, okay?”  
  
“It’s just…”  
  
Buffy took his other hand and stared into his eyes. “Oz, you’re a werewolf, not a German Shepherd. And you’re the most human guy I know.” She leaned in and kissed him. Not the brief touch of lips they’d exchanged a moment ago, but a confident kiss, one that let him know that she understood him, accepted him, _liked_ him – a lot.   
  
When it was over, he smiled. And then he opened the van door for her. “Let’s go.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	49. Chapter Forty-Eight

  
Feral (Chapter Forty-Eight)  
  
  
  
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Yes, Buffy realized that she should be focusing on what the heck Faith was up to and why it was suddenly important to her to try and play ‘divide and conquer’, but she wasn’t just The Slayer. No, she was a girl with a best friend whose very recent ex she was now dating and it was important to her to make sure she wasn’t hurting her.   
  
“I’m fine, really,” Willow assured her with a smile so genuine Buffy couldn’t bring herself to doubt it. “I think it’s great.”  
  
Great? Okay, not that Buffy was looking a gift horse in the mouth – and what the heck did that even mean anyway? – but if it was Willow dating Angel, she wasn’t sure she’d be so cool about it. Then again, the circumstances weren’t exactly the same, were they? “Thanks,” she said, pulling Willow into a warm hug.  
  
“I mean it.” Willow really hoped Buffy believed her because it was true. Okay, admittedly, it did sort of sting that Oz had moved on so quickly – and with Buffy – but boy did she know how hypocritical that was. They didn’t deserve to even have to deal with any negative reaction from her. Buffy was her best friend and Oz had been her first real love. She cared enough about both of them to want their happiness. Her ego would heal. “I want you guys to be happy.”  
  
The hug got tighter. “I love you, Will.” That was worth everything.  
  
Angel stared over at where Buffy and Willow were embracing. It was obvious by the way Buffy hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction – yet – that Willow hadn’t said a word about Angel having seen the kiss at the Prom. That was a relief. It was better for all of them that Buffy think she was revealing the news about her new relationship to them herself today. Maybe it was his ego talking, but he didn’t think she was over him enough to handle with equanimity the idea that he had seen her kiss Oz and not reacted with jealousy.  
  
What would happen if she knew about his feelings for Willow? That thought made him look away from the pair in the corner and turn back to the others: Oz, Giles, Xander… oh, and Wesley – standing pursed-lipped and disapproving, of hell only knew what. The man nearly always wore that same expression… unless, of course, he was looking at Cordelia, who wasn’t here and for that Angel was grateful. Things were already difficult without her graceless sniping.  
  
“So… how’s it feel? Knowing Buffy’s moved on already?” Xander had sidled up to him and was now attempting to needle him. How unexpected.  
  
He was in no mood to humour the boy, so he quickly punctured his balloon of schadenfreude. “I’m glad she’s happy,” he said, in a tone which held no undercurrents of any sort… though he did want to smile at Xander’s defeated expression. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.”  
  
Giles was giving him a shrewd look and Angel wasn’t surprised he’d been listening. Oz… Oz was impassive as ever, and he had no idea what that wolf was thinking. That was a bit odd, but then again, did he really know Oz well enough to read him? Probably not.  
  
Buffy led Willow over to where everyone else was sitting. Was it just her or was there both more and less tension than expected? Because Angel seemed… calm and okay. Everyone else, though? That was another story. Was she okay with that, by the way? With Angel not glaring daggers at Oz? With him not being jealous at all?  
  
There was no good answer to that. Part of her wished like anything that he was in at least _some_ pain. She still… yeah, there was still a piece of her heart that was Angel’s. Thank heavens Oz understood that, and that she understood how Oz was probably feeling the same way she did right now. Willow was absolutely okay with them being together and that must sting, even if he was doing his ‘stoic guy’ thing and not showing it. Later on, they’d talk and she’d let him know it was okay with her for him to feel conflicted about all of this.  
  
Boy was this new – the whole ‘mature, open, friendship-based relationship’ thing. As much as she had loved Angel, and still did, she had to admit, it had never been anything like what she had with Oz. She could never have talked to him about another guy… had never talked to him about Pike. Maybe she should tell Oz about him. It might be nice to talk about him with someone. There was a picture of him in a shoebox way on the top shelf of her closet and sometimes she took it down and looked at it, wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was fighting evil his own way these days or if he’d put it all behind him.  
  
She hadn’t loved him, hadn’t slept with him, but… it had been good to have someone there who didn’t judge her after the institution, and who got the whole ‘Slayer’ thing. For a while, he’d been more committed to her sacred duty than she had. Had she ever thanked him? Probably not, huh? Especially not with things ending the way they had – chaos and misunderstanding and him just… gone.  
  
She cleared her thoughts and got her head back in the game. “Is it just me or does Faith suddenly popping up give any of you a wiggins?”   
  
  
  
Being a vampire had advantages and Liam didn’t hate it… except at times like this. Willow was gone, he knew where she was, and he had no way to get to her. He caught himself pacing back and forth like a caged animal.   
  
It took him back to when he _had_ been in a cage. He felt at her mercy and it reminded him…   
  
But he wasn’t. Not anymore. No, here he was the one in control, the one who’d taken and taught… and she was so different – sweet and gentle and lovable, pure and innocent and submissive. It was the opposite here.  
  
She just needed to understand what it meant to belong to him, how to behave… but she’d learn. He’d be a benevolent teacher, however, and because of him, she’d be happy. They’d _both_ be happy.  
  
One thing was bothering him, though, and he realized that it was at the root of all his unease and disquiet: She had yet to say three important words. She hadn’t said ‘I love you.’ It pained him, even if he knew that deep down, she truly did love him. What would it take to make her feel safe enough to admit it, not just to herself but to him as well?   
  
Learning that Oz had moved on would help, he was sure, eliminating any lingering, inhibiting guilt she might have felt. But more was at play than that guilt, he realized as he explored her bedroom, taking it all in with a critical eye; she was slow to welcome change. The constant upheaval of a life now spent fighting demons was something for which she seemed to compensate by clinging to familiarity and safety in her personal sphere. How long had she known Oz without moving to that next step? How few friends did she have and for how long had she known them? Even her room was a shrine to years past, to the long-familiar and well-worn. Liam, on the other hand… he was new, and he’d swept her off her feet… and into his bed. The shock and the intensity were unexpected and entirely foreign to her. Of course it was a challenge for her to accept it all. She would, though, and now that he felt he understood the circumstances more thoroughly, he would help her. That was, after all, in a sense his job. She was his – his to love, to protect… to teach.   
  
Soon, very soon, with his guidance and support, she’d acknowledge the truth. Then she would say the words he knew her heart already spoke. She’d tell him how much she loved him.  
  
  
  
“So either we know something we don’t know we know or Faith and Mayor McSugar Daddy think we’re about to find something out, is that it?” Xander had a real knack for getting to the heart of the matter; Willow wished that there were tests that took that kind of intelligence into account. If there were, Xander would have gotten into college for sure.  
  
“That sums it up,” Oz agreed.  
  
“So all we have to do is ascertain what that might be.”   
  
“And Captain States-the-Obvious is heard from,” Buffy muttered. Willow stifled a giggle. Wesley _was_ pretty much useless, wasn’t he?   
  
Giles was obviously on the Buffy page. “Yes, quite astute there,” he drawled. Amazingly, it didn’t sail over Wesley’s head because he gave Giles what he probably thought was a threatening glare. Giles paid it no mind, but Willow had to stifle another chuckle. If it wasn’t for the fact that they might all be a few days away from death…  
  
Angel really needed to stop looking over at Willow. No, nobody had noticed anything, and even if they did, what were the odds they’d guess the reason, but still, he didn’t want to take any chances. Faith’s attempt at dividing the group was doomed to failure, but if anybody besides Willow knew that he had feelings for her? He wasn’t betting on finding the same acceptance as Oz and Buffy.   
  
Speaking of Oz, he was just glad the boy was paying little to no attention to Willow, either that or he was suppressing his enhanced senses, because that glamour had gone on for long enough that it seemed like even a casual acquaintance of the ‘more than human’ variety would have picked up on her jarringly unchanging scent by now. Well, thank… No, a vampire couldn’t very well thank heaven, though Willow could, and would if she thought about it.   
  
“We need to hit the books again, look back over everything we’ve learned,” he said, getting back to the matter at hand. “We need to figure out what it is they hope we don’t realize… and soon. Graduation is in less than a week.”  
  
Buffy couldn’t argue with Angel’s logic, but she fought back a groan anyway. She hated going over and over dusty books and bright white printouts. This was not what she’d signed up for when… okay, she hadn’t exactly _signed up_ to be the Slayer – it was more like getting drafted – but still, Merrick had pretty much made out that it was all about stakes and patrols.  
  
How long had it been, anyway, since she’d thought about Merrick? Oh god. First Pike, now Merrick. Was this her life flashing before her eyes? Was it the universe’s way of telling her that all hope was lost and she’d better do all that ‘last hurrah’ stuff? A sense of terror she hadn’t felt since the threat of The Master’s resurrection overwhelmed her; she had to get out of here. “I’m going to get a soda. Anyone want one?” She didn’t wait for an answer, rushing out the door just ahead of a full-blown panic attack.   
  
A moment later, there she was – at the soda machines. Maybe she should just buy one for everyone. That would be a good cover, right?   
  
“You okay?” Oz’s voice startled her and she whipped around.   
  
“Hey.” She tried her best to sound calm, but her heart was pounding so hard she figured you could see it moving through her shirt. “Want a soda?”  
  
Oz shook his head, clearly not buying it. “Look, I know you’re the Slayer and all…” His voice trailed off, but she could hear the words he wasn’t saying. She was so grateful to him for not saying them.  
  
“Guess I’m worried that we’ve finally got ourselves a real apocalypse, you know? The kind you don’t get to stop.” She paused. “Did anyone else notice? I mean, the whole ‘Buffy wigging out’ thing?”  
  
“Nah. Pretty sure they figured you were avoiding Wesley’s pontificating. He started up again right as you left.”   
  
“Oh.” Guess her timing wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. “That’s not why I left, though,” she admitted.  
  
“Kinda figured that.” He was right in front of her now. “We can talk about it. Or not. It’s your call.”  
  
Could she tell him? _Should_ she tell him? It was… was it wrong that if she did she’d be telling him things she’d never told Angel? But there was a world that needed saving and she knew she had to talk to someone to get past this… _fear_. “I’ve been remembering… people I used to know, stuff that happened that I haven’t thought about in a long time. It’s sort of like my life flashing before my eyes, except a lot slower than flashing, and not all of it. Just the Slayer stuff.”  
  
She followed Oz over to a couple of chairs and sat. He did too. “Did you know I had a Watcher before Giles? No, probably not, huh. Well... his name was Merrick and… anyway, he was killed. I…,” she took a deep breath, “I wanted to give up the whole thing after that, you know? To be honest, I wanted to give it up even before, especially…” Another deep breath. Oz had taken one of her hands and she stared at the way his fingers wrapped around hers. He wasn’t pushing or reacting and she knew she could stop right here without a word from him. It made her feel… safe. So she kept on talking. “When I first found out about the whole Slayers and vampires thing… I tried to tell my parents and… they put me somewhere.” Tears threatened, but she held them back. “It was an institution. Oh, it’s not like I spent years there or anything,” she hastily explained. “I was only there for a few weeks, just until I figured out how to keep my mouth shut and pretend I’d gotten over my ‘delusions’.”  
  
Oz still didn’t say anything, simply leaning in and kissing her forehead – gently, reverently. Funny how that said more than any words he could have used. Now there were tears. “I was scared,” she confessed.  
  
“I know,” he said softly.   
  
They stayed this way for a couple of minutes – silent and thoughtful – and Buffy could feel herself calming, centering, finding herself. Funny how she felt closer to Oz than to anyone else. His acceptance, his understanding, they gave her a confidence and a sense of safety she sorely needed. “Thanks,” she said after another moment.  
  
“For what it’s worth, we’re gonna win.”  
  
When he said it like that… “I know,” she said, smiling and meaning it. “Let’s go get some doughnuts for everybody,” she suggested. “I think they deserve something for dealing with Wesley all by themselves.” Oz nodded his agreement and they headed out to the van. Jellies, ahoy.  
  
  
  
Buffy and Oz had been gone for awhile and Angel had to admit to some paranoia. She _had_ departed in a hurry. Had she seen something? A look? A glance? Was she even now crying on Oz’s shoulder? Was she going to come back and tell everyone she knew…?  
  
Willow had her nose buried in _Lochman’s Guide_ , apparently oblivious to everything except stopping the Mayor. Her brow furrowed adorably when she concentrated and it felt like a challenge. It made him want to see if he could… Oh god. No. Not now. Now was neither the time nor the place to think about seducing her away from those books. There _was_ no time or place for doing so, in fact, because she was taken – and probably taken in every way possible, at that – by his alter ego. The one who’d seen her first… all of her.   
  
As familiar as he was with guilt, this latest addition to his usual burden was different and more difficult on that account. Hating Liam for having Willow? How wrong that was. Liam had endured… but after all, so had Angel, and…   
  
It was all he could do not to scream in an effort to drown out the warring thoughts and feelings in his head. He stared down at the book in front of him. Latin. Great. Nothing like a dead language to deaden the emotions, right? Right?  
  
Willow had read the same page five times. Maybe on the sixth, she’d actually have some idea of what she was reading. Because at this point she didn’t even know what language it was. Oh. English. That was nice. Not as nice as the feel of Angel’s lips against hers as he…  
  
Oh god. No. No naughty thoughts. Especially not naughty thoughts about Angel. What kind of person was she, anyway? She was with Liam. _With_ Liam. Liam. Handsome, caring, generous Liam who had suffered so much because of her doppelganger and who somehow loved her anyway and who she really should love back. She’d lost her virginity to him – given him something she’d never given Oz – and... and… She didn’t love him.   
  
She _wanted_ to love him. She wanted to so much. But you couldn’t make yourself love someone, no matter how hard you tried. Maybe if she knew _why_ she didn’t love him, maybe then she could fix it.   
  
If only there was someone she could talk to, but there wasn’t, was there? Not now, not now that Angel…  
  
How come they were so different? Okay, that was a stupid question, considering how different she was from her double from Bizarro World, but still…   
  
She really enjoyed sex and everything with Liam. She did. It was just that with Angel, the kissing was… it was better – and she was more attracted to him. It didn’t make sense. It just didn’t make any sense at all. Tears started forming and she looked up, not wanting to accidentally get them on the book. No one was looking at her anyway, right?  
  
Except Angel. He was looking right at her. Swiping her eyes as if she had gotten dust in them, she quickly got up. “I’m gonna go see where Buffy is.” With that, she hurried from the library.  
  
Willow was crying? Angel was concerned as she got up and made her lame excuse before hurrying out even faster than Buffy had. What was wrong? Had she learned something in that book? Or was it him? Had she been distracted after all? He got up and followed her, making no excuse at all and paying no heed to Xander’s whine of “How come I’m the only one stuck with the grunt work?” as he headed off in pursuit.  
  
Catching up with her in the hall was hardly difficult and he pulled her into an empty classroom before she had a chance to say a word. “What’s wrong?”  
  
What was wrong? He had the nerve to ask her what was wrong? She shook his hand off her arm. “You kissed me!” She probably should have done the angry thing earlier since right now seemed so late that Angel was confused, but Willow was on a tear right now and she wasn’t stopping. “I have a boyfriend – a boyfriend who’s practically related to you – and you kissed me! Why did you do that?”  
  
There were tears in her eyes again and Angel was torn between hating himself and… this meant something, didn’t it? It meant that his feelings weren’t entirely one-sided. If they had been, then she wouldn’t be so distraught.  
  
This wasn’t the right thing to do. In fact, it was wrong and possibly cruel and definitely morally dubious, but… without a word, Angel pulled Willow to him.  
  
And he kissed her again.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	50. Chapter Forty-Nine

Feral (Chapter Forty-Nine)  
  
  
  
  
Angel was kissing her.   
  
Again.   
  
And she liked it.  
  
Was this the story of her life? Kissing other guys when she already had a boyfriend? Because it was sure starting to look like that. First she kissed Xander while she was with Oz, then she kissed Liam while she was with Oz, and now she was kissing Angel while she was with…  
  
Oh god.   
  
She took her arms from where they had wound their way around Angel and pushed against his chest. “We can’t do this,” she said a moment later when the kiss was broken.  
  
She was right, and Angel knew it, but then again, more than a little of this morning’s meal had migrated south of the border and he wasn’t feeling very noble, so… “Why not? You don’t love him.”   
  
“That’s not fair.” She was whimpering now, looking at him as if he was being cruel.   
  
Was he? Was he using her confidence as a tool against her, a confidence she’d shared with him because she trusted him and saw him as her friend? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Which was true. He wasn’t going to apologize for the kiss, though.   
  
“Why?” she pleaded and it could mean so many things. Did she mean why was he sorry? Why had he kissed her? Maybe it meant both and then some. With Willow, nothing was uncomplicated; he was learning that the hard way… by falling…  
  
Oh no. That was not happening. Not like this. Not now. Strong friendship turned to fondness and lust was bad enough. Besides, hadn’t he been in love with Buffy far too recently to be jumping off that cliff with someone else?  
  
Angel was just standing there, not answering her, and Willow was about to say something more when the door burst open. “What are you guys doing here?”  
  
“I…”  
  
But Xander was on a tear and she couldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise even if she’d known what to say. “Willow, you bailed on me! I get that Angel’s a selfish jerk, he’s a demon, but you? You’re my best friend and you leave me alone in there with nothing but dusty books and Giles and… and Wesley! Wesley!”  
  
Willow saw Angel roll his eyes, but she couldn’t do anything about his annoyance right now. Xander had a point, didn’t he? They’d left him all alone to do the research… well, worse than all alone. He was in there with Wesley. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Her apology seemed to do the trick because he visibly relaxed. “Yeah, well, I guess we all need a break. Buffy and Oz took off even before you, so… Hey. Where are they anyway?”  
  
Willow shrugged and looked at Angel. That was a really good question, wasn’t it?  
  
  
  
The back of Oz’s van was surprisingly comfy and Buffy was glad for the refuge. She wasn’t ready to return to the library and face more sure-to-be-fruitless research. She turned her head and stared at the box of doughnuts sitting on the front seat. “They won’t get stale, will they? I mean, we can stay out here for a little while longer, right?”  
  
One of those quiet chuckles Buffy found more and more endearing was his response and Oz moved next to her, putting his arm around her. “I think we’re good.”  
  
“Thanks,” she said softly. “Not just for this, I mean, but for…”  
  
He kissed her gently. “I know.”  
  
It was true, too. He _did_ know. He got it – all the stuff she was feeling, how scared she was, how much she hated that fear. Tilting her head up, she pulled him closer and kissed him. This time the kiss was longer, more deliberate, more passionate. It surprised her, how intense and needy she suddenly felt.  
  
She kept kissing him and he was kissing her back, responding to her ardor with his own. Something powerful was happening and she just let go and went with it, getting lost in the need to forget that the Mayor was about to slaughter her, Oz, her friends, and everyone in Sunnydale.   
  
Oz was really good at this, too. She’d kind of already figured that out, but things were a little more “more” than before and he was… Guess she hadn’t really expected… But then again, he wasn’t exactly totally human, so the fact that he could push a Slayer’s buttons wasn’t as surprising as she’d been about to think.  
  
His hands moved over her, learning her body. For a brief moment, she thought of Willow, but she let that go. Willow, after all, had just given them her very heartfelt blessing. So okay, it was perfectly all right to be making out with Oz.   
  
Her own hands were busy as well. Oz was much slimmer than Angel, but he was surprisingly muscular. Smooth, compact… nice… He felt good, the way he fit against her. Without thinking, one hand drifted down and…  
  
No, he wasn’t deficient at all.   
  
Maybe she was going too fast, taking this somewhere it was a little early to be going, but she wasn’t sure she cared, at least not right now. Later… well, if there _was_ a later, she could care then.  
  
She needed this, she realized – something to take away the ache and the fear. A connection to someone, to live in her humanity in a way that didn’t make her feel weak…  
  
A second chance to get it right. Because the fact that the only time she’d ever had sex had ended so badly still hurt. She needed this. And she needed it to be with Oz. It was strange, but she trusted him – maybe more than she’d ever trusted anyone.  
  
Was that more important than being in love? It might be. It was today.  
  
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, but somehow filling her head.   
  
“Yeah.” She smiled at him. “I’m sure.” But then she wondered, “Are you? I mean, do you want…?”  
  
He smiled back. “Yeah. I want.” He pulled away, though, and Buffy wasn’t sure what to think until he pulled out his wallet and… Oh. She’d sort of forgotten. Mostly human guy. Condom. Which was very much of the good.  
  
While he was undressing and everything, Buffy got undressed as well.   
  
Sunday afternoon. The back of Oz’s van. People waiting in the library. Doughnuts cooling in the front seat. And Buffy was about to have sex for the second time in her life.  
  
Luckily, she wasn’t the think-y type, and even more luckily, Oz was kissing her again. She was right back in that very good place where her body hummed and her hands were exploring a very smooth, hard male body. Now she was on her back and Oz was on top of her and…  
  
Oh god. She hadn’t realized how very much she’d wanted this until right this moment. The slide of his cock into her felt like he belonged there.   
  
It didn’t take her long at all to learn his rhythm, to meet his thrusts. “Harder,” she cried, and he gave it to her, not treating her like she was delicate or fragile. It was amazing.  
  
His fingers found her clit and she screamed as she tumbled into an orgasm that surprised her with its intensity. A few moments later, he followed her.  
  
“Wow.” She was amazed that she could speak after what she’d just experienced. “That was…”  
  
He’d pulled out of her and now he was lying beside her, panting and spent… just like she was. “Yeah, it was.” His smile was a beautiful thing.  
  
They didn’t exactly have time for afterglow though, did they? “We probably have to go back in now, don’t we?” she groaned.  
  
Oz handed her clothes to her before nodding. “We should.”  
  
Pulling herself together, Buffy smiled. Yes, she realized that Angel was going to be able to smell what she and Oz had just been doing, but she’d deal with that when and if she had to. For now, well… she’d just had really great sex with a really great guy who didn’t turn evil afterwards and…   
  
She felt alive again. She was the Slayer.  
  
“You ready?” Oz asked, and she nodded. Because yeah, she was ready. Ready to save the world.  
  
  
  
“Hey! Where have you guys been?”  
  
That question was answered for the others by the box of doughnuts Buffy and Oz set on the table, but Angel was wondering about the length of time they’d been gone. Then the scent hit his nostrils.  
  
Sex.  
  
Buffy and Oz had just had sex.  
  
Angel had to admit he was surprised by that. With him, Buffy had been… but then, she’d been younger and a virgin when they’d begun their relationship. It stood to reason she’d been more reticent. He’d been just as willing to take things slow. Now – well, she was a woman, with a woman’s appetites.   
  
A part of him wanted to smile, to let her know that it was okay, but he wasn’t sure she was ready for that. He wasn’t sure if he was either. Despite the fact that he’d moved on emotionally, he didn’t know how he felt about Buffy… Hypocrisy, thy name was Angel. He’d bed Willow in a heartbeat – was falling in love with her – and here he was denying Buffy that same right.   
  
Striding over to her, and heedless of what the others might think, he took Buffy’s arm. “Can we talk?”  
  
Uh oh. Angel wanting to talk did not bode well, but Buffy shot Oz a look that said ‘it’s okay’ and she let Angel lead her up into the stacks. Too late to change her mind, wasn't it.  
  
“I know what happened. With you and Oz.” His voice was low and even and Buffy was trying to figure out what he was feeling when he continued. “I’m… I’m glad for you. That you’ve moved on. Oz is a good guy. He can give you… everything I couldn’t.”  
  
Wow. That was unexpected. Was it good or bad, though? Good, she was sure, except for the part where she had to admit that a little jealousy might have been nice – at least as far as her feminine pride was concerned. But maybe it was better this way. For sure it was more mature and a heck of a lot less of a complication at a time like this. Okay. She could put a Band-Aid on the bruises on her ego and deal. “Thanks,” she said, putting her hand briefly on his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I wish you could…”  
  
“I know.” And he did know what the rest of her sentence was about to be, so he figured cutting her off made a lie of omission on his part less of a sin. There was no chance he was going to tell her the truth about his curse, not now. “Are you going to tell Willow?”  
  
Buffy’s expression didn’t change nearly as much as he’d expected. “Yeah. I was gonna tell her tonight. She’s cool with me and Oz, by the way. She told me earlier. She’ll be fine with this… right?” Angel nodded, wondering for a moment what would happen if Willow’s glamour failed and Oz found out about her liaison with Liam… or if either he or Buffy found out about Angel’s feelings. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be the same scene of calm equanimity being played out right now.  
  
“She told me, too,” Angel finally replied. “And she won’t be upset about…”  
  
“Yeah.” Buffy was handling this pretty well, but complete frankness of language wasn’t happening. Guess talking about sex with the one to whom she’d lost her virginity was a bit uncomfortable for her. Guess he couldn’t blame her. “We should probably go back. Still lots of research to do.”  
  
Taking her hand, Angel said, “You deserve to be happy.”  
  
She smiled, but then her eyes turned sad. “So do you.”  
  
If only she were right, but the universe didn’t seem to agree. Why else, after all, would he find the fetters of the curse loosened only for his passions to be shackled to an unattainable girl? None of this could be revealed to Buffy – not now and probably not ever – so he just gave her his own rueful smile and followed her as she walked down the stairs.  
  
Willow watched as Buffy and Angel emerged from the stacks. Buffy seemed okay and Angel… well, Angel made Oz look wildly expressive, so she had no idea what he was feeling, or maybe she was just trying not to think about him too much. But given the whole ‘heading off to a secluded corner’ thing, she guessed she wasn’t the only one Buffy had talked over her new relationship with Oz with, huh?  
  
She went over to her friend. “You okay?” Buffy smiled at her, but she seemed sort of… nervous? Anxious? Well, duh. Of course she was anxious. They still had no idea what was up with Faith or how to defeat the Mayor.  
  
“I’m fine. Just…”  
  
“This Faith thing is pretty freaksome, huh?” Willow put her hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. She’s not that smart. We’ll figure this out.”  
  
You know, she’d been totally fine about this just a few minutes ago, but standing here next to her very supportive best friend… yeah, she felt a little weird. Probably a good thing Willow hadn’t actually slept with Oz, that was for sure. Still, Buffy wondered… She’d told Angel that she was planning on telling Willow tonight, but maybe she should just get it over with. It was the last thing standing between her and being totally ready for battle, because one thing – well not just one thing, but this thing was one thing – had stuck with her: she felt like herself again.  
  
“Can we talk, Will?”  
  
  
  
The walls were starting to close in on him and Liam felt stir crazy. When was she coming home? It was still at least three hours until sunset and he was trapped in this bourgeois prison while his love was… at the library? In trouble of some sort? He had no idea. It wasn’t as if the Slayer, that twat, or her worthless minions would tell him anything, although he supposed Angel would. There was at least some small comfort in that, some beggarly bit of proof that at least she was likely safe wherever she was. It was just that that ‘wherever’ was away from him.  
  
He wished Willow’s scent, her real scent, was on their sheets. At least then he could take in the way the two of them were comingled and comfort himself, but no, that glamour kept her sterilized to even his acute olfactory sense. Yes, of course, it was a necessity, but right now it irked him.  
  
Thoughts of Angel returned…and he wasn’t so sure of things anymore. For all of his counterpart’s craven ways, Liam knew that he _was_ a demon – a demon who wanted what didn’t belong to him. Was he with Willow right now? Had he used those damned tunnels to enjoy an advantage Liam didn’t possess? He went back to his computer and sat down before it, staring at the screen.  
  
Right now, Angel was with his love. He probably fantasized about her, dreaming of favours only Liam had the right to enjoy, even in imaginary fashion. Well, while Angel was never going to get the chance to make his fantasies come true…  
  
Liam opened up the drawing he’d created earlier. There was going to be a battle soon; it had to occur. After all, the Mayor wasn’t going to be taken down in a recall election. Who knew what could happen in the melee? Not like Angel was any match for the superior version, now was he? And in all the confusion… who would see anything?  
  
When it was over, this town would be the home of one less vampire with a soul. That was as it was meant to be. He smiled, imagining the possibilities open to him when Angel was finally gone. He began drawing again… refining his plan. With Angel gone… with access to the money which he’d spend far more wisely than that cur ever did… with his position cemented and his love secure in his arms… Yes, the future was going to be very bright. Very bright indeed.  
  
  
  
“Oh my god.” Willow spoke softly, but she was… okay, shocked would be a good word. “You and Oz… made love? Today?” Wow. That was… “Was it nice?”   
  
Even she was surprised when she asked that and Buffy? Her mouth was open like Xander’s when the teacher called on him in history class. Buffy recovered fast, though. “Yeah. It was nice. Better than nice. Way…” She stopped herself and it was clear she was really worried about saying too much. “Do you hate me?”  
  
“No! Oh gosh, how could you think that?” It was true. She didn’t. She was kinda stunned and it was a little… okay maybe a lot weird, but she didn’t hate Buffy at all. She didn’t hate Oz either. Boy was she grateful not to be that much of a hypocrite… especially considering how, unlike Buffy, she wasn’t coming clean about her escapades with ex-boyfriends any time soon. “I’m okay with you guys… being you guys, you know? I guess I’m kinda glad for you right now. I mean, it must be sort of… after what happened the first time and…” Oh no. She’d just almost said something probably hurtful and she’d come too close to hope that Buffy hadn’t figured out exactly what that was. “I think I should probably stop there before my foot gets stuck between my molars and all. I’m sorry.”  
  
Much to her surprise, Buffy pulled her into a hug.  
  
She’d forgotten. In all this mess she’d forgotten that Oz wasn’t the only one who understood her. Willow got it and that made her glad – glad she’d told her now, glad they were friends in the first place… just glad. “I love you, Will.”  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
Now everything really was okay. That same feeling of certainty and wholeness she’d felt back in the van washed over her again. She let go of her friend and smiled…a genuine, heartfelt, ear-to-ear smile. “What do you say? Want to spend a few more of our precious weekend hours combing through decaying books and ignoring Wesley?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	51. Chapter Fifty

Feral (Chapter Fifty)  
  
  
  
It was almost nightfall, but not quite, and she should be on the sidewalk right now, walking home by herself, but where was Willow? In the tunnels. With Angel.  
  
“Sort of weird, huh?” she asked, trying not to think about what she’d just stepped in might be. “Buffy and Oz, I mean,” in case he’d thought she was talking about another very weird thing she didn’t even want to mention.   
  
Angel shook his head, but she guessed he agreed with her because he said, “Yeah. Pretty weird.”  
  
“I’m glad they’re happy, though.”  
  
“Me, too.” He meant that, too. Buffy deserved to be happy. Still…  
  
Didn’t he deserve something resembling happiness too? He’d done his time in Hell. Wasn’t it his turn for some relief from lonely misery? If Liam was his true double, he wasn’t any less in need of redemption, so why did he get to rumple the sheets with Willow while Angel got to become increasingly well-acquainted with his right hand?  
  
Of course, Willow didn’t love Liam, and when that little fact became known, Liam was likely to join him in brooding solitude. Still – he was happy _now_ and that was more than Angel could say. A part of him actually wished that Liam had never come here, even though that did mean he wouldn’t know the curse wasn’t as all-encompassing as he’d believed. He’d been… well, he’d still been brooding and miserable, but somehow being brooding and miserable while in love with Buffy was easier than this, was easier than being in love with Willow.  
  
Naturally, a fresh wave of guilt overwhelmed him.  
  
“Oz… he’s been really good for her, helping her through…” Oh great. Nice job putting your foot in your mouth there, Willow… especially when you have no idea what’s on your shoes. “I didn’t mean… I totally get why you and Buffy broke up, believe me. And hey! I’m so not one to talk considering that I broke up with Oz and all.”  
  
Had Angel even heard what she said? He sure didn’t look like he was listening, which maybe was a good thing considering, but her feelings were still sort of hurt. “Angel?”   
  
A moment later he said, “Yeah,” and it was clear she’d been right; he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Great, she was in a sewer, boring the guy she’d just kissed – again. Her life was awful… and it smelled bad. The only thing worse? Unless the research yielded something soon, her guilt-ridden, confusing, smelly life might be over in a few days.  
  
Not only _her_ life, either, which seemed possibly more important. After all, there were a whole bunch of people who weren’t faithless hussies who were about to get caught in the crossfire of a battle they didn’t even know about. “Do you think we’re going to figure out exactly what this Ascension is? In time, I mean?”  
  
Angel might have been too lost in thought to have heard what Willow had said before, and he’d wanted to kick himself for that after seeing the hurt in her eyes when he’d given himself away, but he heard that last fearful question loud and clear.   
  
How to answer it, though, now that was a question in and of itself. By any sort of logic, he’d have to be a pessimist and say no. After all, they were at an incredible disadvantage and all their research had done so far was take them in circles leading back to nowhere. But…  
  
“We’re going to win,” he said, and he believed it. Believed it with the fervor of a vampire who’d escaped hell, with the certainty of a warrior who’d seen this group win impossible battles against invincible foes time and time again… with the absolute faith of a man who loved a woman he wouldn’t allow to perish, not now, not like this.  
  
They were standing at the ladder now, the one leading up to his mansion. He took her hand, intending to help her up. Instead, he pulled her to him… and kissed her. For the third time.  
  
  
  
Awkward. There was awkward happening right now in Oz’s van – which was still parked and not being started or anything. Buffy should probably have expected this, what with the whole ‘surprise sex in the middle of the afternoon’ thing that had happened a little while ago. She didn’t regret it, not a bit, but…  
  
“Are you sorry?” she asked, kind of wishing he was a little more on the expressive side when it came to moving his facial muscles.  
  
He looked at her and his expression… okay, his eyes… He was as close to shocked as she’d ever seen. That _was_ shock, right? “No. Absolutely not.” Yep, that was shock and… it made her happy.   
  
“Me neither.” Smiling, she reached out, taking his hand. “I’m…. I guess… what happened changes things, except it doesn’t have to… unless you want it to, I mean.” She wished her palms weren’t suddenly all sweaty and gross, especially since letting go of Oz’s hand right now would totally send the wrong message.  
  
Guess he didn’t notice, because he just smiled back and said, “I want.”  
  
“Oh.” Smooth there, Buffy. Nice that your famed banter skills are being put to good use. “I mean…”  
  
“I know.” And he did, because he leaned toward her and then… their lips met and it was wonderful. Sweet and kind and understanding. No, he was nothing like Angel, but that didn’t mean he was something less.   
  
Did she love him? Not yet, but she was on her way there and the feeling of falling was… Was it weird that she liked the way she could follow the progress as it was happening? One more difference that she thought might end up being a pretty good thing.  
  
A part of her would always love Angel; she knew that. He was the first – not just the first man she’d slept with, but the first man she’d loved – and that was always going to mean something. She didn’t regret him, either. On the contrary, she’d always be glad they had… well, what they had. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t room in her heart for someone new. That didn’t mean she couldn’t move on to something that was just as meaningful.  
  
She just noticed that she had been thinking in terms of a future – not as an ‘if’, but as a fact. Oz had that effect on her, didn’t he? Bringing out that ‘can do’ Slayer side of herself.  
  
He was looking at her, his face just inches away. “What are you thinking?”  
  
“I’m thinking about you.” She smiled again.  
  
Oz smiled back and then… well, their lips were too busy for any more smiling.  
  
  
  
So now they were in Angel’s mansion… and they had just kissed – again – a moment ago. Willow felt like she should just head right back into the sewer and stay there. What kind of low, horrible person was she? “We can’t keep doing this,” she said, uncomfortably aware that she’d said that before.   
  
Angel was just looking at her. Great. Couldn’t he have just agreed with her or something? Xander had always… Okay, that hadn’t exactly worked out, so maybe Angel was saying the right thing, which was nothing, after all. Still… “I’m gonna go.”  
  
“Wait.” He couldn’t just let her leave like this. Yes, he understood that she felt guilty. Honestly, he did too. But the stronger feeling was the seething jealousy he was experiencing at the thought of her going home to Liam. A vampire whose lover had been gone all day? Lovemaking would be expected. “You can’t just ignore what’s happening between us.”  
  
There were tears in her eyes, which didn’t surprise him, but what she said next did. “What’s happening? That would be me being unfaithful – again. I can’t keep doing this, Angel. First it was Xander when I was with Oz, then it was Liam while I was with Oz, and now it’s you while I’m with Liam. It’s like I can’t be content with what I have. I always have to go looking for something else. I hate being that kind of girl, okay? I hate it. I hate myself. And I hate you.” The tears were flowing freely now and, despite her harsh final words, Angel couldn’t be angry at her. She was obviously tormented.  
  
Her words also made him wonder… did she have a point? Of course he was certain of his own feelings, but what of hers? Was he possibly just part of a pattern, some neurotic compulsion on her part? The thought was incredibly painful, but he couldn’t allow vanity to make him disregard the possibility.  
  
This time, he didn’t stop her as she rushed out of the mansion.  
  
  
  
It was still just barely getting dark, so Willow felt safe enough stopping at the park for a few minutes to pull herself together. She didn’t want Liam to see that she’d been upset; he’d ask questions and she didn’t have any good answers. Would he be able to smell…? But that was silly. The glamour was still working, so he wouldn’t be able to smell Angel on her or anything. Did they even smell different?  
  
Her thoughts – they were all over the place, weren’t they? Breathe. Calm down. And whatever you do, don’t think about Angel. Think about Liam. Sweet, generous, sexy Ang... Liam. Liam. Liam. Liam.   
  
What was wrong with her? Liam was a wonderful man. He was. He was great in bed, he was smart, he was interesting, he even liked computers. Okay, he was sort of intense, but hey, after everything he’d been through, how could she blame him for that? Oh, he also wasn’t too thrilled about her magic use. But Oz hadn’t liked it either, so that was pretty much normal boyfriend-attitude, right? And yes, he was kind of domineering, but weren’t most vampires?   
  
She needed to stop being so negative. Not like she didn’t know where all this picky stuff was coming from – it was her subconscious trying to justify her cheating ways. Well she was onto that little ploy and she was not giving in. Liam loved her and she was going to love him back. She _could_ make herself feel what she was supposed to, no matter what she’d thought on that subject earlier. She was going to love Liam and be as good to him as he was to her. Making her feelings clear to Angel today, telling him that he was probably just one in her unforgivable string of flukes, had been a good start, but that was all it was – a start. She needed to keep going. From now on, there would be no more kissing Angel, no more thinking about Angel, and no more internal harping on Liam’s really minor imperfections. With a determined set to her jaw and her smile already in place, Willow got up from her seat at the picnic table and strode purposefully to her house. She was going to be the best girlfriend ever.  
  
  
  
Oz was waiting for her in the living room, being nice while her Mom chattered away, when Buffy bounced down the stairs, dressed in her patrol clothes. “Ready?” she caroled.  
  
“Don’t be too late,” her mother admonished. She looked sort of sad for a moment and Buffy was about to ask when she blurted out, “I won’t be saying that much longer, will I? You’ll be off at college soon.” Oh god. It was way too early for her Mom to be having ‘empty nest syndrome.’  
  
“Mom, I’m going to U.C. Sunnydale. I promise to come home regularly so you can keep giving me motherly orders for another four years.” But she gave in and hugged her; deep down, she felt lucky. After all, she could have a mother like Sheila Rosenberg. That would be way worse than even her Mom’s most excessive hovering.  
  
“I promise to be in at a reasonable hour,” Buffy offered.  
  
“Good night,” Oz added, and with that, Buffy grabbed her bag of assorted weapons from the coat rack and they headed outside.   
  
“Your Mom’s cool,” Oz said with a slight smirk that instantly set off Buffy’s radar.  
  
“Okay, while I was upstairs, were any stories being told?” And if there were, please let it not be the one about…  
  
Oz shrugged. “You were pretty creative with vegetables as a kid.”   
  
Oh god. She knew it. “I am so going to kill her. She better not have dragged out the photo album.”  
  
Oz chuckled, but said nothing, leaving Buffy with only the smallest shred of hope that the illustrated version of the vegetable tragedy remained untold.  
  
“Seriously, you didn’t see any pictures, did you?”  
  
He shook his head and offered a very sincere-sounding, “No.” Was he lying? If he was, he was good enough at it that she decided to believe him. She’d sleep better that way.   
  
“Good.” She felt awkward again and she looked at her wrist, only to feel even dorkier when she realized she’d left her watch in her room. Oh well, not like she didn’t know what time it was anyway. Time to change the subject, that was definitely what time it was. Shifting the topic back to work, she asked, “Where do you think we should start patrol tonight?”  
  
  
  
Opening her front door, Willow called out, “I’m home.” Expression cheerful. Voice same. Good. Of course, Liam was right there to greet her.  
  
He pulled her into his arms. “I’ve missed you.”  
  
“Me, too.” Oh how she wished that was as true as it should have been. Her mouth was suddenly dry. Lying had a way of doing that to her. “I need to get a soda,” she said, extricating herself from his embrace and heading for the kitchen.  
  
Liam followed his love to the refrigerator. Something was off. Oh, she seemed cheerful enough, but there was… She hadn’t kissed him – that was it – and he was concerned. She grabbed a coke and immediately popped the top, downing some straight from the can. That was normal for her, but he was still feeling that sense of unease. “Did you make any progress today?”  
  
She shook her head. “Nope. Still no closer to figuring out… well, we don’t think so, except…”  
  
Now his curiosity was truly piqued. “Except?”  
  
“Faith showed up at Oz’s rehearsal. She thinks Oz and Buffy are going around behind my back and she thought she could drive a wedge between us. That must mean we’re on the right track or something, otherwise, why would she bother?” Willow sighed. “The problem is that, if we know something, we don’t have any idea what we know.” She sighed again for good measure – this was nothing if not sigh-worthy. “Poor Buffy. Faith is such a horrible, skanky bitch. I bet she said the sleaziest, rudest stuff. It’s a good thing she didn’t know…”   
  
“Didn’t know what?”   
  
Oops! Oh no. She really hadn’t wanted to say anything about… But Liam was her boyfriend, right? Besides, he and Buffy barely spoke. She’d never know.   
  
Willow would know, though. She couldn’t say anything. “Nothing. Just… stuff. Girl stuff.”  
  
She was lying, concealing something from him, and even though it obviously was something to do with Buffy, about whom he cared little, it was the principle which rankled – Willow wasn’t supposed to keep secrets from him. Reacting with anger, however, would be counterproductive. He kept his voice and mien gentle, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You can tell me. You can tell me anything.”  
  
Much to his displeasure, she did not immediately comply. Instead, he watched as wheels turned behind her eyes and she debated acceding to his wishes.   
  
This was Buffy’s business, and Oz’s, not Willow’s, and she really shouldn’t say a word… but Liam seemed hurt by her reticence and her guilt over kissing Angel immediately reared its head. She owed Liam, whether he knew it or not. So she gave in to her need to be a good girlfriend and became a very bad friend. “It’s… Buffy and Oz… they sort of took their relationship to the next level.”  
  
Well, well. The werewolf and the Slayer. Hadn’t taken them long, had it? But Liam suppressed the grin that was fighting to turn up the corners of his mouth, instead keeping his expression understanding and slightly serious. “Thank you for trusting me.” The smile he got in return was a beautiful one. Leaning down, he kissed her and…  
  
There was the faintest trace of something that shouldn’t be there in the taste of her lips. It didn’t take much to deduce just what it was.   
  
Angel. That sniveling, conniving bastard. He’d gone further than Liam had ever imagined he would. Struggling to keep his demon in check, Liam deepened the kiss and was partially mollified by the fact that he couldn’t taste that scheming louse. Even allowing for the soda she’d just consumed, had the kiss been prolonged and passionate, surely there’d have been some trace.   
  
No wonder she’d seemed awkward and different.   
  
She should have told him. Again, however, he knew that expressing his rage would be counterproductive. Especially since he already had a remedy for this disease which threatened his relationship soon at hand. The upcoming battle. There would, successful research or no, be one. After that… well, Angel wouldn’t be a problem anymore.   
  
Pulling Willow tighter to him, he let his hands roam over her body, finding further solace in the way she so readily gave in to his implicit desires. No, she hadn’t been entirely faithless. Someday, he’d get the whole story from her. For now… It was time to christen that hideous formica table.  
  
  
  
Angel sat in a chair by the ever-present fire in his fireplace, doing what else? Brooding. He had fallen for Willow, no use trying to pretend otherwise, and she’d all but told him that he was no different in her mind from Xander Harris. Could he possibly sink any lower?  
  
Well, he could, but rats and a fungus demon would be involved. He shuddered at that memory. And it didn’t even distract him from his emotional turmoil.  
  
Still, the more he thought about it… Willow’s definition of herself was that of someone shallow and capricious. Even before he’d fallen for her, he’d known her to be anything but. So maybe her perceptions were off. Maybe she wasn’t a girl who was always looking for novelty.  
  
He looked back at what he knew of her before… at the loneliness he’d seen in her eyes the day he’d first met her… at her awkwardness, her eagerness to please and desperation to be liked.   
  
No, she wasn’t capricious… and she wasn’t nearly as self-aware as she thought she was. Maybe her problem was that what she thought she wanted and what she actually needed were entirely different. Perhaps that was how she’d wound up in two successive unsuccessful relationships. Perhaps her indiscretions were her subconscious way of…  
  
That was it. It had to be.  
  
But was Angel what she needed? That was the question. Maybe. He hoped so. All he wanted was a chance – just a chance. For her to get to know him, to consider the possibility…  
  
It wasn’t healthy for Liam to be with Willow anyway, what with everything he’d endured at the hands of her counterpart. Ending his relationship with Willow… Angel would be doing him a favour. Liam would get over it. Move on… move away. Heck, Angel would happily dip into his cache and give him a stake to set up house in another city. Someplace where he could forge a new life for himself.   
  
It would all work out just fine. All they needed to do was defeat the Mayor. Then Angel could worry about trying to win over Willow.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	52. Chapter Fifty-One

Feral (Chapter Fifty-One)  
  
  
  
The past few days had nearly driven Angel crazy. Willow had been avoiding him – blatantly. Well, blatantly from his perspective, though probably not noticeable to anyone else. The couple of times he’d seen her, she’d been with Liam… and she’d barely given him so much as a glance. Liam had, though, and that worried him. Had Willow told him?  
  
No, there would have been a confrontation if she had. Liam was a demon, the same as Angel – well, not the same, but… Yes, he was a demon and a demon didn’t just smile and let things slide. Not that Liam was smiling. None of them were. It was the day before Graduation, after all, and other than the murder of a certain Professor Worth, they still had few, if any, clues as to what was up with the Ascension.  
  
It was the next to last day of school, and, since there might not be too many hours of their lives left, Willow had decided she should spend as many as possible with Liam. She owed him that much. So she’d borrowed her parents’ car, and, with Liam in the trunk, driven to a tunnel entrance. A blanket had shielded him sufficiently to make it down the hatch, and she’d joined him, trying not to think about the last time she’d been in those very tunnels, and now here they were – the library, trying to figure out just why Faith had murdered a geologist. One thing was for sure…  
  
“If the Mayor’s trying to hide something from us, I say we go seek.” Buffy always was ‘Cut to the Chase Girl’ and Willow grinned hopefully.  
  
Wesley immediately chimed in. “Ah. By attempting to keep a valuable clue from us, the Mayor may have inadvertently led us right to it.”  
  
Was he serious? “What page are you on?” Buffy asked. “Because we,” she indicated the group gathered around her and tried not to think about the fact that it included Liam, “already got there.”  
  
While he looked embarrassed for a moment – one in which Buffy took a whole lot of very immature pleasure – Wesley was Wesley and he quickly regrouped. “Yes, well. You will go tonight. Look over his apartment. Anything of note, report back here.”  
  
Ignoring the giggle Willow hadn’t managed to stifle, Buffy fought her own urge to mock-salute and contented herself with a snide, “I just love it when you take charge, you man, you.”  
  
To her surprise, Wesley gave almost as good as he got. “Was that a yes? I have trouble keeping track.”  
  
“We’re on it.” Oz chimed in and his tone brooked no argument, at least from Buffy. Wesley looked like he was about to say something, though  
  
Liam had been sitting, watching the personal dramas play out, taking in the important details, when he decided to say something. Because this geologist… Well, if his research was important, Liam agreed on one thing. “I think it’s a good idea. Buffy shouldn’t go alone.” What he didn’t say was that he thought Oz would be helpful because at least he knew how to read something more complicated than the directions on a box of home hair colour. Even the Oz in his world had been book smart – though he had also been a judgmental prick whose actions had contributed to the fall of Sunnydale.  
  
Of course, a bonus to agreeing with Oz’s suggestion? The sour look on Buffy’s face as she was forced to accept his support. It was so fleeting that Liam didn’t think anyone else noticed it, but he did, and that was enough.  
  
Angel spoke up. “Be careful. If Faith shows up…”  
  
Buffy shook her head. “I don't think she'll show. Been there, killed that. She's not much for follow-up.”  
  
She was right; Angel had to admit that. Faith wasn’t a long-term thinker. She was a primitive who lived in the moment. That was one reason he’d once believed he could save her.  
  
He was lost in regret and paid little attention to Buffy and Giles as they debated her ability to deal with Faith, only coming back to the here and now when Xander came bursting into the room, dragging Anya behind him. “I take it we’re all talking about defeating the Mayor? ‘Cause I’ve got to say, that’s so much easier said than done.”  
  
Way to state the obvious there, boy, but the look on Anya’s face made him sit up and take notice. Xander continued. “You guys want to know about the Ascension? Meet the only living person who’s been to one.”  
  
  
  
An hour or so later and they were all sitting, sullen and sad and more than a bit dejected, around the table. “That invulnerability thing? So sick of it,” Xander quipped listlessly as he stared at Giles’s dagger. Willow had to say she agreed with him. And that dagger would look so much better covered in Mayor guts.  
  
Oh god. Had she just thought that? Okay, yes, it was a creepy thought, but in her defense, the Mayor had just promised to kill her and eat Buffy and… he was gonna turn into something gigantic and horrible and world-killing soon. “This is so not good,” she said, her voice low and dispirited.  
  
Anya got up and left, not bothering to say a word to anyone, even Xander. Obviously she had yet to read the ‘manners’ chapter in her How to Be Human handbook. Liam spoke and she was surprised at his optimism. “We know more now than we did before. That’s definitely in our favour. Also, there’s the fact that the Mayor came here to psych us out. Further proof that we’re in better shape than we think we are.”  
  
As much as she really didn’t want to agree with anything Liam said, Buffy couldn’t help it this time. “He’s got a point. First Faith, then the Mayor himself? We have to be a bigger threat than we know.” Oz nodded and took her hand and Buffy felt better. Liam was creepy, but her guy? He made even enduring Angel’s slimy twin okay.  
  
However, there was also a way to end the enduring before even Oz couldn’t make it endurable. “We better head out. I have a stop to make before we head over to Professor Worth’s apartment.” She turned to Giles, cutting off his objections at the pass. “I already got my acceptance letter to UC Sunnydale. Pretty sure they’re not going to take it back just because I cut my last classes.”  
  
Before Wesley could add his two cents or pence or whatever, Buffy grabbed her bag and Oz’s hand and dragged them both hastily out of the library.  
  
  
  
  
“Where are we going?” Oz asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.  
  
Okay. How to explain this without making Oz feel like a chauffeur. “My house. And… it’s more of a ‘me’ than a ‘we’. I kind of need you to wait outside.” She took a deep breath. “I have to talk to my Mom, get her to realize that leaving town is absolutely the only choice she has.”  
  
Oz turned to her and nodded. “Yeah. That’d be a good idea.” No questions asked.  
  
“Thanks. You don’t mind waiting?”  
  
“No. Why would I?” With all the chaos around her, Oz’s equanimity was a blessing. Boy did she appreciate his calm and his willingness to just go with the flow.  
  
She’d just said ‘thanks’, so saying it again would be dorky. Instead, she just sat silently as they made their way to Revello Drive, trying to think of the best way to get her mother out of harm’s way. Unfortunately, she didn’t think as fast as Oz drove. They were here. Great. “Wish me luck,” she said as she exited the vehicle. Turning around, she saw him smile at her. It helped.  
  
  
  
Xander had gone, not trusting in the security of his diploma and figuring he’d better make that last class, so Willow was left in the library with two vampires and two Watchers… and lots of guilt and awkwardness. Of course the awkwardness wasn’t just her – Wesley and Giles hated each other but that whole British thing they had made them super polite about it, and Angel and Liam… was it her imagination or were they a lot frostier to each other than before? Oh god. If they were, it was so her fault.  
  
“What do you think a geologist has to with an Ascension?” she asked, trying to break the tension.  
  
Wesley began, “Well, if I were to hypothesize, I would say…”  
  
“You don’t have any idea,” Giles interjected, and Angel stifled a chuckle, noting that Liam did the same. They had a few things in common, didn’t they?  
  
Wesley stood, chin up, staring down the bridge of his nose at them all, trying for some sort of dignity, but not denying that Giles was absolutely right. He should have left well enough alone. None of them had a clue. That would have to wait for Buffy to come back with anything she could find at the late Professor Worth’s apartment.  
  
This was getting them nowhere, and Liam wanted to suggest that they leave, but Willow… she seemed determined to keep researching and he had to admit that waiting here for Buffy’s return seemed reasonable.  
  
It was all becoming real – the threat of the Ascension – and he felt fear for the first time since… since he’d been chained in Angel’s mansion. He fought to keep the surge of renewed hatred he felt from showing in his expression, but it stiffened his resolve to find a way to use the battle to his advantage.  
  
Willow was going to try to restart the conversation when she felt, and heard, her stomach protest at her having skipped lunch. “Guys? I’m sort of hungry. Anyone else want anything from the vending machines?”  
  
Immediately, Giles offered, “You can’t subsist on that sort of thing. Why don’t I drive you somewhere to get something more substantial?”  
  
Her stomach seemingly growled in agreement, so she nodded. “Okay.” She turned to Liam. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?” Luckily, he seemed to think it was a good idea. At least he smiled. That was good. So she grabbed her purse and let Giles lead her out of the school.  
  
Liam watched his lover leave with Rupert Giles, oddly glad that the man was concerned enough to want her to eat properly. He still didn’t like him – never would – but he was content now to let him live through the battle and afterwards. The Watcher had his uses and was dedicated enough. Sunnydale was safer with him in it. But speaking of his plans, he needed to do a better job of maintaining his façade. “Have you seen anything on the message boards?” he asked Angel.  
  
“No.” Angel shook his head. Liam seemed entirely friendly now, though with his usual degree of reserve, and he wondered if it was only his own paranoia which had made him think Liam might be aware of one particular mutual interest. Maybe so. At any rate, what was important right now was sticking together to deal with the Mayor. “But maybe we both ought to check. You never know. The closer it gets…”  
  
He sat down at one of the computers and Liam did likewise. Might as well do something.  
  
  
  
Buffy followed her Mom out of the house… and to her car. She put the suitcase she’d hastily packed for her in the trunk. “Buffy, are you sure…?”  
  
“Go.” Her tone was firm, not that of a daughter, but of a Slayer.  
  
That didn’t last though, not when her Mom pulled her into a tight hug. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you, too.” There were tears in Buffy’s eyes as she let go… as her Mom got in the car… as the car pulled away. She watched as the car made its way slowly down the street, picking up speed only as it was too far away for her Mom to see her in the rearview mirror.  
  
Wiping her eyes, Buffy noticed Oz getting out of the van and walking towards her. She met him halfway. “Wanna go in and get a snack or something?” She was trying hard to sound cheerful, but the truth was that sending her Mom away had raised all those doubts again.  
  
“I could eat something,” Oz answered, ignoring the quaver in her voice, and she was grateful. They were standing outside and it was daylight – the last place and time she wanted to have a conversation about weakness and fear.  
  
So she led the way back to the house and straight to the kitchen, where she began rooting through the fridge. “There should be some leftover chicken… something in here. It has some fancy name, but I forgot what it was. Mom got the recipe from Martha Stewart. Or the Food Network. Not sure which.”  
  
“Sounds good.”  
  
“Mediocre, actually. I love my Mom, but she really needs to leave the rosemary to professionals.” She found the foil-covered pyrex dish containing that very chicken and lifted the foil… It looked even worse than it had last night. There was grease and everything. Her stomach turned over. “You know, maybe we should just order pizza.”  
  
Oz shook his head noncommittally. “I’m not that hungry. We can grab something after we hit the professor’s house.”  
  
The professor. Buffy drew a deep breath. “Do you think we’ll find anything?”  
  
A moment later Oz was right in front of her, his hand stroking her cheek. “Yeah, we will.” But there was the tiniest crack in that even veneer.  
  
It almost broke her. He was supposed to be calm and confident and free of doubt. “There has to be something. We have to figure this out.” Her voice shook and she stared into Oz’s eyes, willing him to be sure.  
  
Instead, he leaned in and kissed her.  
  
It was just like that day in the van, and it went from sweet to needy in record time, arms around each other and hands moving over bodies and… “Do you want to go upstairs?”  
  
He smiled at her. “Yeah.”  
  
It seemed like only a second had passed but here they were in her bedroom. This was weird, making love in this room, but hey – her Mom was gone. As she pulled her shirt over her head, she noticed Oz getting something out of his wallet. She couldn’t help herself; she chuckled. “Expected this, huh?”  
  
“Hoped,” he confessed with a shy grin and it made Buffy smile right back.  
  
“I kinda hoped too,” she admitted, going to him and helping him take his own shirt off. This time, she really looked at him and… she liked what she saw. He was totally different from Angel, but he was definitely sexy in his own way. Lean and compact. He was kind of a male version of herself, which was a strange thought, but it was true, wasn’t it?  
  
Maybe that was why he ‘got’ her. He kissed her again, pulling her to him and unhooking her bra; Buffy shut off the thinking part of her brain and focused on the feeling. Which was nice. Very nice.  
  
More clothes came off and then, there they were, on her bed. She decided that, if today was the last full day of her life, she was gonna try something different. She guided Oz onto his back and straddled him. “Is this okay?” He nodded, and she took him in hand, positioning him at her entrance and then sinking down… down… slowly, reveling in the feeling of control and in the sensation of taking him inside her.  
  
His eyes were closed and he moaned, clearly enjoying it as much as she was. As she began to move, their bodies learning each other’s rhythm, she lost herself in the pleasure of it. There was no fear, no worry, just this… just them.  
  
  
  
Xander burst into the library just after the final bell. “Do we have anything yet?” He looked even more nervous than he had earlier and Angel wondered why. “Because Anya offered me the passenger seat in her getaway car and I’d like to be alive to scoff at her when this is all over.”  
  
Well that answered his question. “Buffy’s going to hit the professor’s house with Oz. We should have something then,” he said, trying to keep the boy from panicking. It would be completely counterproductive, and frankly, a manic, anxiety-ridden Xander was even more obnoxious than the standard variety so he was more than desirous of keeping the boy calm. “Why don’t you sit down, have a slice of pizza?”  
  
Willow smiled, trying hard to be the brave little toaster, as she echoed Angel’s pretty much unexpected friendly gesture. “Here.” She opened the box again and got out a slice, putting it on a paper plate. “Mushrooms and everything.”  
  
“Thanks, Will.” Xander took the pizza from her and sat down, eating and not talking. Guess Anya doing her best impression of a rat had taken…  
  
Oh god. Amy. Poor Amy. What if everyone in town died tomorrow? That meant Amy was going to die as a rat. Willow made a promise to herself – if they lived, she was going to work harder than ever to make Amy human again.  
  
Hey… That had to be meaningful, right? The universe might line up on their side for something like that. Gosh how she hoped so.  
  
In the meantime, she turned her attention back to the latest in a long line of dusty books. Maybe this one would have something useful in it.  
  
  
  
Afterglow had happened this time, but Buffy and Oz hadn’t forgotten their assignment, so here they were, dressed in their best cat burglar outfits – which pretty much resembled her slaying gear and the clothes Oz had been wearing earlier – coming out of a crime scene bearing a box of sneeze-inducingly dusty scrolls and books. “Think any of this is what we need?”  
  
Oz nodded confidently. “I’m sure of it.”  
  
Funny thing? She was sure of it too. Why had she even asked the question? But there was one thing nagging at her. She paused in the middle of the deserted street and so did Oz. “Why do you suppose Faith didn’t destroy this stuff when she was playing assassin? Or at least take it back to her lord and master?”  
  
Oz’s brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, Buffy heard a sound and then… “Oz!”  
  
It was too late. He collapsed to the ground, an arrow in his shoulder. “Oh god! Oz! Are you okay?” Not waiting for an answer, she pulled him up and dragged him to the van. Guess it was a good thing she’d learned how to drive a stick shift in Driver’s Ed.  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	53. Chapter Fifty-Two

Feral (Chapter Fifty-Two)  
  
  
  
Buffy cringed as Giles gingerly removed the arrow from Oz’s shoulder. “Are you quite sure you shouldn’t be at the hospital?” he asked.   
  
“No hospital,” Oz and Buffy spoke in unison. She added, “This looks like a trap and he’d be a sitting duck in the ER.” She turned soft eyes on her boyfriend… the man she’d made love to just an hour or so ago. “Besides, he refused.”  
  
Oz took a deep breath and Buffy watched as the pain lines deepened around his eyes. She hated that this had happened to him. At least there was one thing… “We’re lucky Faith is such a suck shot.”  
  
“Are you quite sure it was her?”  
  
Had he really asked that? Willow immediately chimed in with, “Who else would it be?” She stared at Oz, trying not to look as upset as she felt. Sure he wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care. It was so obvious he was in pain. Good thing the library’s first aid supplies weren’t as paltry as those in the little drugstore kits. But then again, most of Rite Aid’s customers didn’t fight demons on a regular basis.  
  
Naturally, during all of this, Wesley hadn’t looked up from the papers she'd given him. Only now was he heard from. “Fascinating.”  
  
Angel was dubious about that, considering the source. “Yes?” he prompted.  
  
“It seems our Mr. Worth headed an expedition in Hawaii, digging in old lava beds near a dormant volcano.”   
  
Buffy and Giles were still tending Oz, so it fell to Angel to try and elicit more information. “What does this have to do with the Ascension?”  
  
“He found something underneath. A carcass, buried by an eruption.”  
  
Now that was possibly something. Wesley might have justified his existence at long last. Liam’s ears perked up. “A carcass?”  
  
“A very large one. Mr. Worth posits that it might be some heretofore undiscovered dinosaur.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure Faith didn’t kill this guy over paleontology,” Liam said. “It has to be a demon.”  
  
Giles turned away from Oz, who seemed to be pretty well patched up now, and threw his two cents in. “Yes, that would be something that the Mayor would want to keep a secret. If it's the same kind of demon he's turning into and it's dead, it means that, well, he's only impervious to harm until the Ascension. In his demon form, he can be killed.”  
  
Not that Buffy was ungrateful for the information or anything, but…“Great. So all we need is a million tons of burning lava. We're saved.”   
  
Oz shrugged, and then winced. Guess he’d forgotten about his shoulder there for a second. Buffy wished she could. She reached over and put her hand on the uninjured side. Oz went to stand up, but he stumbled and Buffy moved to support him. “Are you okay?” She had her answer when his eyes went unfocused and, without warning, he collapsed so quickly that she lost her grip on him and he fell to the floor. “Oz!”  
  
No answer. Oh god. Was there internal bleeding or something?   
  
Angel grabbed the arrow off the table and sniffed it. Damn. “It’s poisoned.” He looked at the boy laying there in the arms of the girl Angel had once loved and his heart ached for the both of them. If something happened to Oz…  
  
But something _was_ happening.  
  
“Dear Lord!” Wesley cried, “Is he changing?”  
  
“It appears that way,” Giles said in a low, grave voice.   
  
Whiskers had appeared on Oz’s face and a few had sprouted on his hands, but the change seemed to have halted, at least for now. What would happen next, though… Angel had no idea.  
  
“We should put him in…”  
  
“No!” Buffy cried, and Willow backed her up.   
  
“He’s not fully changed. We don’t need to…”  
  
“Put me in the cage,” Oz groaned, conscious again. “Do it.”  
  
“No, we don’t…” Buffy’s voice broke and Willow’s heart with it. She hated seeing her best friend in this much pain, and she had to admit she was terrified for Oz, who stared at Buffy until she helped him to his feet and half-carried him to the book cage.   
  
“What do you think is happening?” Willow whispered to Liam.   
  
Liam had no idea, but he was definitely concerned. This was a distraction they didn’t need, not at a time like this, and it also sidelined two essential fighters. Buffy, after all, would be useless if her lover was dead or incapacitated. She was pure teenage girl emotionally. If only he’d killed Faith. That bitch. “I don’t know,” he said softly. Willow looked worried and sad and he wanted so badly to take her into his arms. He couldn’t, though; not here.  
  
Oz was in the cage now and Buffy was kneeling at the door, clutching the wire as if it were his body. Angel went to her. “We’ll find a cure,” he said. Promised was more like it. He owed her a happy ending and she was going to have it.  
  
“The Council has all the known toxins on file, mystical or otherwise. I'll contact them immediately.” Wesley actually had something useful to offer. Guess he thought some demons were worth saving. Angel was glad of that.  
  
“Thank you,” Giles said, and without a trace of sarcasm.   
  
“I’ll take the arrow to the lab, see what I can do.”   
  
Buffy turned and looked at Willow, so grateful for her best friend’s science skills. “Thanks.” She wanted to get up and go to her, but she couldn’t. Oz was groaning, obviously in pain, and she had to stay near him.   
  
Angel knelt beside her and she stared into his eyes. “He has to be okay. He’s gonna be okay, right?”   
  
  
  
Willow and Liam had headed for the science lab immediately. She had the arrow in her hand and a sense of single-minded purpose to propel her. Now was not the time to think about Oz’s suffering and Buffy’s pain, but only of solutions and science – and maybe magic. Probably magic. Definitely magic.   
  
Detachment, detachment, detachment.   
  
Microscopes, beakers, they were her friends. She held onto them now for dear life, hoping they’d be true. She stared down at the sample on the slide before looking up and asking Liam, “Can you get me a piece of paper and a pencil or a pen?”  
  
Liam did as he was asked, frustrated that he couldn’t be part of what Willow was doing. Standing on the sidelines was not his style, but he wasn’t a scientist or an alchemist, so… He watched as Willow scribbled some things furiously on the piece of paper. She handed it to him and was about to say something when Xander Harris burst in.   
  
“Hey. Anything I can do?” It was obvious he’d been told about what had happened, otherwise, why would he have looked for them here?  
  
Willow took the piece of paper back from Liam. She had a feeling this was more of a Xander kind of job anyway. “Can you go to the magic shop and get these ingredients for me? The poison’s mystical… You do know about…?”  
  
“What happened to Oz? Yeah. I got the Reader’s Digest version in the library just now.”  
  
“How’s Buffy doing?”  
  
Xander shrugged and Willow decided not to even ask about Oz. Detachment. “Okay. I need this stuff to run a trace analysis. Can you hurry?”  
  
“I’m, uh, kinda short of cash.”  
  
Willow was about to tell him to tell them to put it on her tab when Liam pulled some money out of his pocket. “Here. This should cover it.”  
  
It was a small thing, but Willow’s soft, wistful smile made it worth it; the more so when Xander immediately departed. “He’ll be back soon,” Liam said to Willow, taking her in his arms. It was a brief embrace – she was too focused on her task for anything romantic – but at least he’d been able to hold her at last. That was something.  
  
  
  
Buffy had to look away, to be away, at least for a moment. It was killing her to see Oz in so much pain. He was writhing, and there was more… more hair, more transformation. What was this? What the hell had Faith done to Oz?   
  
Giles pulled her into a hug. “There, there,” he said softly, in that fatherly way that sometimes made Buffy forget that he _wasn’t_ her father. “We’ll… we’ll find the cure. We’ll make him well.” He didn’t believe it, though, not really, and Buffy knew it. Oh god. What if he died?   
  
She let go of him, dragging herself back to the cage. Oz needed her, needed her strength, needed to know she was there. As hard as it was for her to see him like this, it was so much less than what he was enduring. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.” He whimpered and moaned. Maybe he’d heard her… but he probably hadn’t. Buffy leaned against the cage and did her best not to cry. Oz needed her strong, so that’s what she was going to be.  
  
  
  
Figuring out what the poisonous compound was made of had been the easy part. Almost as easy had been finding out the name of it and its history. The hard part? She’d sent Xander into the library for books, but neither she nor Liam nor Xander had been able to find any instance of a cure. This was getting depressing, all the more so because she knew Oz, and she knew that to him this was a fate worse than death. Her only hope was that Wesley’s call to the Watchers Council yielded some assistance.  
  
“Anything?” Willow whipped around to see Buffy standing in the doorway. Angel was right behind her.   
  
Judging by the looks on both of their faces? The news from Wesley hadn’t been good. “No help from the Council?”  
  
Angel snorted. “They don’t help demons,” he spat out.   
  
Buffy added, “As far as they’re concerned, he deserves to die.” She wasn’t exaggerating either. Oh, she was paraphrasing, but hardly inaccurately. It was impressive, though, the way she was holding up. And if they managed to save Oz, maybe later they could sit around and share some hearty laughter about Buffy telling Wesley to get a job.  
  
Not now, however. “Do you guys know anything?” he asked, basically repeating Buffy’s initial question. His eyes found Willow… and she didn’t look like she had cheerful news to share. Her beautiful face… No, he didn’t need to be thinking like that right now. Not with Liam here, staring at him intently (or was that his paranoia again?).  
  
Liam held Willow’s hand as she took a deep breath before speaking. “We know what it is. Translated from the Latin, it means ‘Eternal Full Moon.’ A sorcerer who wanted an army of werewolves created it. It basically short circuits…”   
  
She was clearly unable to continue, so Liam finished sharing the cold, hard truth. “It locks the werewolf into its wolf state so it never becomes human again.”  
  
“But there’s a cure, right? I mean, there has to be an antidote.”  
  
Xander was still poring over the books and, much to Liam’s amazement, he suddenly cried, “Guys, I think I might have something.”  
  
Rushing over to where he was sitting, Willow looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, this…” Her face fell. This was not good.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Buffy had felt totally hopeful just a few seconds ago, but Willow had ‘Uh-Oh Face’ and that was not good. “What is it?”  
  
“Well, it’s a cure…”  
  
“That’s great!” Buffy interrupted, not having a clue what could be bad about…  
  
“Okay, the henbane and the pure silver are easy but the rest of the antidote? We sort of need something we can’t get.”  
  
“What do you mean: something we can’t get?”  
  
“Ummm… the blood of the person who… Faith’s blood.”  
  
Buffy was about to say something, when Liam beat her to it. “That won’t be a problem.” He locked eyes with her. “I’ll get it.”   
  
  
  
Willow had confirmed where Faith’s apartment was and they’d sent Liam off to get her blood… by whatever means necessary, Now she had taken over sitting by the cage, watching Oz, wincing every time he moaned and feeling a little more afraid with every new hair she saw sprout on his face and hands. What if Liam didn’t succeed or at least not in time? Oz might be a wolf forever.   
  
This was so unfair. He and Buffy were happy – really happy – and after everything she’d done to him, Willow figured he deserved that, but now… “You’re gonna be just fine,” she said to the hairy figure in the cage, hoping she was comforting him. “Liam will be back soon and I’ll whip up the antidote and… you’ll be fine.”  
  
Kneeling down beside Willow, Angel stared at the boy behind the wire, able to almost feel his agony. “Faith went too far,” he said softly. Willow almost jumped and he realized he’d startled her. “Sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay. I was just thinking… They have a right to be happy, you know?” Her eyes held the faint shine of tears and Angel ached to hold her in his arms. Not a good idea with the others right there… and with Willow so intent on being faithful to Liam.  
  
Liam, who was off playing hero – or killer.   
  
Part of him wanted to tell her that they had a right to be happy too, but that would be so selfish. He felt guilty for even thinking about it, but that didn’t change the fact that he loved Willow, did it? And he was afraid, so afraid, that Liam’s actions tonight might bind Willow to him even tighter than before.  
  
Still, he was more afraid that they wouldn’t save Oz… and that they wouldn’t figure out how to stop the Ascension. “We should get back to the books,” he said, wanting to give her a distraction – not that it was much of one, merely exchanging one source of fear and anxiety for another.  
  
“Yeah,” she agreed dispiritedly. But instead of following Angel to the tables groaning with books and scrolls, she walked over to where Buffy was standing, leaning against a bookcase, staring at nothing. “Hey,” she said as she put her arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “Are you holding up okay?” And you know that was the stupidest question ever. “Of course you’re not,” she corrected herself. “Sorry.”  
  
“How is he?” Buffy asked, knowing she could go over and see for herself, but figuring maybe… maybe Willow would lie to her and she could believe it.  
  
But Willow had never been a great liar. “About the same,” she said and Buffy knew it meant he was getting worse by the minute.  
  
“It should have been me,” she said tonelessly. “I should be the one out there looking for Faith.” Even as she said it, she wondered if she could have done it. Emotion was no ally in battle and while she would never, ever admit it, deep down she was terrified that maybe, just maybe, Faith was a better fighter than she was. Well, not so much better, but less afraid to die. Guess that was easier when you had nothing to live for.  
  
Once upon a time she’d felt sorry for Faith. The truth was that that once upon a time had been as recent as the second before Faith’s arrow had pierced Oz’s flesh. “I… I think I love him, Will,” she admitted, staring into her friend’s eyes and hoping she didn’t hate her. Instead, she was pulled into a hug.  
  
“I sort of figured that out already.” That was true, though Willow wasn’t sure exactly when she’d realized it. “He loves you too, you know.”  
  
“You think so?” And in that moment, her friend wasn’t a powerful superhero; she was an insecure teenage girl. Willow hugged her again.  
  
“I know so. You know that look? The one where you look at him and he looks at you and kind of smiles?” Buffy nodded. “That’s the look he used to give me.”  
  
The female bonding, however, immediately came to a crashing halt.   
  
“Hey!” They were interrupted by a cry from Xander that sounded suspiciously optimistic. “Giles might have found something!”  
  
  
  
The building was as fancy and forbidding on the inside as the outside and Liam had to admit that the Mayor kept his doxies in style. Not for one moment did he think that Wilkins _wasn’t_ sampling Faith’s well-used wares, after all. He climbed the stairs, hating the claustrophobic feeling of elevators. As a vampire, it wasn’t like it took him any more time that way.   
  
Now here he was – the penthouse. Faith’s door was open, and for a moment, he wondered if she was expecting him. It didn’t matter. He had more reasons to win than she did, and that was a powerful advantage. This was his ticket to being the shining hero in everyone’s eyes, now wasn’t it? And that was important. When Angel was gone, it would be so much easier for Liam to take his rightful place if the group already realized how well-suited he was for the position.   
  
Faith was lying on the bed, on her stomach, reading something thin – a comic book. Seemed about right. She probably just looked at the pictures.   
  
Music was blaring and she was bouncing a bit. Everything with her was grossly sexual. He remembered that day in the mansion… ‘Only kill her if you have to,’ Angel had said. Yeah. Sure thing. The day he took orders from that pathetic…   
  
He smiled – smirked – and spoke. “Thought I’d drop by,” he said, his voice as smooth and sexual as ever her wettest dreams could have made it, “see if you were in the mood.”  
  
Off the bed in a trice, she licked her lips in a way he knew she thought was alluring. “Come on in," she beckoned, and he took her up on the invitation, walking over to the stereo and turning off that terrible music. "I thought you’d be by to thank me,” she quipped. “Thanks to me, you’re not the puppy anymore. You owe me one… well, maybe more than one. You look like you’ve got the stamina.”  
  
Okay, he was already tired of this. “I’m so much more than you could ever handle, little whore.”  
  
Ooh. Looked like that word had done the trick. For just a moment, Faith looked like she’d been punched. She regrouped like a pro, though, he’d give her that. “Yeah, well, time for me to get paid then, isn’t it?” With that, she launched herself at him and the fight was on.  
  
She was good; better than he’d expected. Kicks well-aimed, more economy of movement than he’d have predicted. All in all, much more skilled than her reckless manner and careless attitude would lead one to expect. If she were fighting Buffy… the battle would be even odds.  
  
But Liam didn’t have the same emotional stakes. Oz’s life was an abstract to him and Faith meant far less. She had never been anything to him but a loathsome enemy. Time to bring out the secret weapon. Guess he owed Buffy a bit of respect for being smart enough to give him…  
  
The knife Faith had left behind when they’d traded for the Box of Gavrok. It glinted in the moonlight on Faith’s terrace and she stopped in mid crouch, staring at it, transfixed. “That’s mine!” she screamed, and she lunged at him.  
  
It was the last move she ever made.  
  
Liam was ready, plunging the knife into her stomach and twisting. Oh, he could have aimed for the heart, but he wanted a little suffering first. He grabbed the vial from his pocket, collecting some of the free-flowing blood as Faith lay on the ground, writhing, grabbing for something she could use as a weapon even as she had to know she was doing nothing but entertaining her… killer.  
  
Because seconds later, that was just what he became. “Was it good for you?” he asked, before thrusting the knife into her one last time. Her eyes shot wide… and stayed open as the light faded from them forever.  
  
Blood safely in hand, Liam got up, smiling, and left the apartment. Time to go save the wolf… and the world. The world that would soon be his.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	54. Chapter Fifty-Three

Feral (Chapter Fifty-Three)  
  
  
  
Oz was still a bit weak, but the extra whiskers were almost all gone and he was lying outside the cage now, his head in Buffy’s lap as she murmured soothingly to him.  
  
“Thank you,” Willow said, for about the twentieth time, as she squeezed Liam’s hand. She meant it, too, but she realized she was going kind of overboard – mostly because she felt really awkward. But why?  
  
Okay, it was weird. In theory, she was just fine with Faith being dead. After all, Faith was evil and skanky and… yeah, a whole lot like Willow’s grotesque vampire double. It was just that this wasn’t theory, was it? Liam had actually killed Faith, put her blood in a vial, and showed up back at the lab with absolutely no evidence of trauma whatsoever. If he and Oz had been best buds, maybe she’d… Of course, then she flashed back to what Faith had put Liam through at the mansion back when Angel pretended he’d lost his soul. She probably shouldn’t be so judgmental, huh?  
  
Anyway, it wasn’t like Faith wasn’t doing her level best to help the Mayor slaughter every human being in Sunnydale… and maybe beyond – Anya hadn’t been too forthcoming on what happened to those pure demons post-Ascension – so really, wasn’t what Liam had done kind of a pre-emptive self-defense kind of thing?  
  
Her guy was himself again and Buffy was finally able to draw a full breath. And yeah, he was looking up at her with that look Willow had talked about. No, this was not the place she’d planned on saying it for the first time, but… “I love you.”  
  
Her voice was so soft she almost couldn’t hear it, but Oz did, because his smile got wider and he said, “Me too.” He paused for a minute and then added, “I love you.”  
  
That was it. They were destroying the Mayor if she had to call the nearest volcano and use her Mom’s credit card to get them to airlift some lava.  
  
Angel was at the table, helping Xander and Giles go through books and trying to ignore the fact that Willow was holding Liam’s hand. Everyone was going to figure out the truth about those two soon, at least of they acted like this when there were no distractions.  
  
Speaking of distractions…  
  
“I demand an explanation.” Great. Cordelia Chase had arrived. Someone who actually gave a damn about what was going on might have been more helpful. Angel sighed – a ridiculous habit he needed to break – and turned to face her. He would have said something, but he was beaten to it by – who else? – Xander Harris.  
  
“For what?”  
  
“Wesley.”  
  
“Uh… inbreeding?” Okay, as much as he hated himself for being amused by something Xander said, Angel couldn’t help but chuckle at that one… and agree with it. Wesley was useless.  
  
"So very funny. Any minute I am sure to laugh. I just got off the phone with him. He could hardly speak he was so upset. He said there was something about a fight? And he is leaving the country."  
  
Why were they paying attention to this? Cordelia’s foolishness was wasting time. Liam wanted to slap her across the face, but he settled for enjoying Buffy taking her down a peg. “Cordelia, I don’t have time to pretend to care about your pathetic crush and his problems. We have a massacre to stop. Pull up a book and sit down or get the hell out of here and let us do our jobs.”  
  
“Oh, you mean lie on the ground like a big lump like Oz is doing?”  
  
Here was Liam’s chance to score some more points. “Oz nearly died. But if you’d like to share that experience, I am sure it could be arranged for you. Probably by the Mayor if we don’t find a way to stop him.” Cordelia glared at him, but she sat down.  
  
“I like the real Angel better,” she muttered under her breath.  
  
“I could probably say the same thing about your nose,” he shot back, counting on her having slavishly followed the conventional practices of the nouveau riche class and not at all surprised that he’d scored a direct hit. She pursed her lips and stuck that same expensive proboscis in a book.  
  
Xander almost smiled. Good. He hated that boy as much as ever, but for now it behooved Liam to have everyone in the library regard him as a friend – except for Cordelia, who meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.  
  
As much as Buffy enjoyed seeing Cordelia get the wind taken out of her sails – and as grateful as she was for Oz’s rescue – she still wasn’t totally okay with Liam. She should be. It wasn’t like killing Faith was something she hadn’t wanted to do herself and hey – nice spotting of the nose job, too. Still… You know, she really needed to get over her issues. Deciding that maybe she was just overwrought and overtired, she went to the ladies room. Cold water wasn’t the same as sleep, but splashing some on her face was the only rejuvenation measure she had time for.  
  
She stared into the mirror over the sink. Even in that cracked, blurry piece of glass, she looked… really lousy. Bloodshot eyes, which at least could hardly be seen thanks to the bags underneath them; blotchy skin; frown lines in her forehead. This was so not how she expected to look when hearing Oz say he loved her. Turning on the tap, she leaned over and splashed so much cold water on her face that she even got her hair wet. Oh how she hoped it helped. Looking up, she saw…  
  
“Hey there, Alice.”  
  
Faith. What was Faith’s face doing…?  
  
But before Buffy could even finish asking herself that question, she slipped through the mirror and into… Faith’s apartment? Had to be. But there were boxes everywhere. Looked like someone was moving. She didn’t see Faith now, just a cat on the bed. “Who’s going to take care of him?”  
  
“It’s a she.” Ah. Faith was back. Good, because this had actually seemed weirder _without_ a dead girl involved. “Aren’t animals supposed to take care of themselves?” At that, Buffy was about to say something when Faith’s expression grew soft. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I think I didn’t anyway. Don’t really know, do I?”  
  
Guilt was threatening to break down her door and Buffy couldn’t handle this. “Look. I’ve got things to do.”  
  
"Oh yeah. - Miles to go - Little Miss Muffet counting down from 7-3-0."  
  
“Riddles?”  
  
“It’s my head. All that math. One minus one equals one. One minus one equals one. That Liam. He’s good – well, maybe you ought to ask Little Red Riding Hood about that.”  
  
Okay, this nursery rhyme stuff? It was officially giving her a headache. Was there a reason for all this? She was about to say something when Faith stared at the broken window and said, “It’s never gonna get fixed is it? One minus one equals one. It’s a start. One minus one equals one. And it’s a finish.” Faith twirled and for a moment – just a fleeting moment, but Buffy would remember it forever – she looked like a little girl. “Curses are foiled again.”  
  
Something about that… but Buffy didn’t have a chance to think about it. There was the flash of the knife, the knife the Mayor had given Faith, the knife that had killed her, in her hand.  
  
Faith had more to say. "You want to know the deal? Human weakness - never goes away. Not even his."  
  
“Are there supposed to be answers here?” Buffy asked plaintively. She could feel this all fading and she knew it was important, but she didn’t know… she didn’t know.  
  
“You’re ready?” Faith asked, but before Buffy could say no…  
  
She was back in the bathroom, the cold water still running down the drain. And she was all alone.  
  
  
  
Sleep. Willow really and truly wanted sleep. She was tired and drained after the eventful day and night she’d had and tomorrow was going to be an early start with more drama and a lot of coordinating… and fighting. Don’t forget the fighting. Oh how she hoped she was as good with a crossbow as she’d just affirmed she was back at the library.  
  
Yes, she needed sleep, but was she going to get it? Liam was behind her, his arms wrapped around her, the moment they got into the house. If only he’d taken Angel up on the offer to stay at the mansion, but no, she was going to have to do the whole ‘drive to the tunnel entrance’ thing tomorrow before heading to the school.  
  
Could she possibly be more ungrateful? Liam had saved Oz, he was going to fight by their side tomorrow, he was her _boyfriend_ , and here she was… she was tired and cranky and not thinking straight. She turned in his arms and let him kiss her.  
  
As much as Liam wanted to make love to Willow, he could feel her fatigue. It was selfish of him to even think of sex tonight. She was fragile and human and the events of the day had tested her limits, as would tomorrow. What she needed now was rest. And something nutritious to eat. Pizza? Giles had fed her pizza? She was not going to sleep on a stomach full of empty calories.  
  
Pulling away from her too-tempting body, Liam turned towards the kitchen as he declared, “I am going to fix you something for dinner and then you’re going to bed.”  
  
“I’m not hungry,” she argued halfheartedly, but he was not dissuaded and, taking her hand, he led her to the kitchen. There was some leftover chicken that he’d cooked for her the other night and he thought of Ted with a pang. No, Ted hadn’t taught him the culinary arts - he’d learned those many years earlier – but somehow, after watching the way Ted’s cookies and mini pizzas had made people smile, he always associated cooking with his lost friend.  
  
Shaking off the memory, he got two pieces of chicken out of the refrigerator. He set them on a plate and was debating whether to heat them in the microwave when Willow grabbed the plate and began eating a piece cold.  
  
“Mmmm.” She hadn’t realized that she was hungry until she took that first bite of chicken. Hungry wasn’t even the right word. Ravenous was probably closer to strict accuracy. Boy could Liam cook. Had he learned from… Ted? The thought made her stomach sort of twist. Liam’s Ted was such a different robot from the one she’d known and Willow really wished she could have known him. “This is delicious,” she said after she’d swallowed.  
  
He smiled, but she could see something sad in his eyes. He _was_ thinking about Ted, wasn’t he? Should she say something? “Who taught you to cook?”  
  
Her intuitive nature… If ever there was proof that transcended the lack of hearing the words that Willow truly loved him. “I didn’t learn from Ted.” Her eyes widened and he knew he’d been right that she’d guessed what he was thinking. “But I wish I’d gotten his cookie recipe. The neighbors loved them.”  
  
She seemed about to say something, but she didn’t. Instead she kept eating her chicken until both pieces were gone, leaving Liam curious, a condition he always found frustrating. Now, however, was not the time for poking and prodding. When the battle was over, when the world had been set to right… well, after that, Willow would lean on him and depend on him and she wouldn’t keep things from him any longer. Then he’d have his answers.  
  
“You need to get some sleep,” Liam said and Willow agreed. A full stomach made her realize that she was dropping from exhaustion. She was just relieved that he hadn’t noticed she’d been about to make a remark about those cookies. After all, _his_ Ted probably made them with chocolate chips instead of psychoactive drugs. She nodded in agreement and was mortified when she yawned without covering her mouth. Too tired for manners, huh?  
  
“Sorry,” she apologized. “Guess I really do need some sleep.”  
  
After throwing away the chicken bones and putting her plate in the dishwasher, she let Liam take her hand and guide her upstairs to her room. Yawning again, she didn’t protest when he helped her undress and get into her nightshirt. The moment she got into bed, she was sound asleep.  
  
  
  
Angel lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, not even pretending that he wasn’t wishing Willow were here with him. She and Liam were probably fucking right now. Just the thought of it made him gnash his teeth and grip the sheets in his fists. Dammit!  
  
But Liam had been the hero today and he got the girl.  
  
Then there was the matter of another girl altogether.  
  
Faith was dead.  
  
Angel still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Was he glad Oz had been rescued from the living death of being permanently trapped in his wolf state? Of course. But there might have been another way. Couldn’t Faith have been knocked unconscious, taken prisoner, her blood then drawn?  
  
He rolled his eyes. Had he been there? No, he hadn’t. All of this second guessing… It had more to do with his own admitted identification with Faith’s struggle with duality and his self-hatred at having failed to rescue her from her own darkness than it did with what pragmatism might have dictated Liam must do under the circumstances.  
  
And of course with the fact that he wanted Willow.  
  
How did she feel, anyway, about everything that had happened? He knew she was no fan of Faith, had none of Angel’s belief that the girl could be redeemed, had been furious with him for allowing her to abuse Liam that night at the mansion. But Willow was also genuinely good at heart and he couldn’t imagine her taking Faith’s death as a matter of course.  
  
When this was all over, maybe they could talk about it… maybe they could talk about a lot of things. In the meantime, Angel had really better try to get some rest. Night was falling much earlier tomorrow and he had a battle to fight.  
  
  
  
She needed sleep – needed it badly – but Buffy couldn’t manage to even keep her eyes closed.  
  
It was Faith. Faith and the roller coaster of emotions that were serving as the memorial service no one but Buffy was attending.  
  
On the one hand, it was hard to be sorry she was dead, given that her death had saved the man Buffy loved, but… Okay, maybe she was feeling a little sorry. Sorry at least that it had to be that way.  
  
Willow had once accused her of putting Faith first because of a ‘Slayers only’ attitude, and maybe… maybe she had a point. It was just… as dark as Faith had become, she was still the only person who knew – knew what it was like to be this thing they called a Slayer and how it felt to be trapped and have no choice about living this not-ever-going-to-be-a-normal-life.  
  
Was that why she had fallen so hard and so fast for Oz? Was that why she had loved Angel? Because they knew what it was like to have no options? Could be, huh. Opposites might attract but it was the stuff you had in common that made it stick, that made you feel like their arms were a better refuge than your own home.  
  
Part of her wished she’d asked Oz to stay here with her tonight. With him here… But that was selfish, because he needed rest too, and lots of it. What he’d been through… Her own terror had been big and horrible enough, she couldn’t imagine his. To feel that slow, agonizing transformation and to know that it might be forever, that no sunrise was going to make it all better.  
  
How could Faith do that to him? Because she could have understood if Faith had done something to _her_ … She had, though, hadn’t she? Duh. Faith had known, just like Willow had. Oh god. She was never, ever going to tell Willow that she and Faith had something in common.  
  
But speaking of not telling Willow things, why hadn’t she talked about the details of her vision with her best friend? Willow was good at figuring stuff out. Maybe she’d have known what that whole bit about Miss Muffet meant. Or the math thing. For sure Willow would know what Faith had meant by that.  
  
So why had she only shared what she’d shared with everyone else: Faith’s remarks about human weakness and that flash of seeing the knife?  
  
 _"Well, maybe you ought to ask Little Red Riding Hood about that."_  
  
Was that it? Did Faith mean that Willow was keeping something from her, something about Liam… and did she believe it?  
  
She rolled onto her side and punched her pillow. That was ridiculous. She and Willow didn’t keep secrets from each other, and anyway, what secrets could she possibly be keeping about Liam? Liam who, by the way, had helped save Oz’s life tonight, along with Willow, who…  
  
That was what it meant! Of course. It meant that Buffy had been wrong about Liam and Willow had been right – Liam was a good guy and Buffy had been creepy, suspicious girl. That was absolutely what it meant.  
  
Rolling onto her back again, Buffy took a deep, relieved breath and her eyes drifted shut. Now she’d be able to sleep. Tomorrow Willow and Oz and Xander would organize the other students and Mayor McCreepy would be history.  
  
In a few days, she and Willow would sit down and have some good old-fashioned girl talk, Buffy would eat a little Liam-flavoured humble pie – okay, gross image there, scratch that whole phrase – and she would ask her about some of the stuff from Faith’s spectral chitchat. No more worries.  
  
But as Buffy fell asleep at last, she could hear Faith’s voice:  
  
 _”One minus one equals one… one minus one equals one… curses are foiled again.”_  
  
  
  
To be continued.


	55. Chapter Fifty-Four

Feral (Chapter Fifty-Four)  
  
  
  
It was still dark when Willow awoke, and for a moment, she was disoriented. Had she slept through the Ascension? But no, that was silly – and not all that possible since Liam was sleeping right next to her.   
  
“You’re awake.”  
  
Okay, maybe not sleeping. “Uh huh,” she agreed softly. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand. 4:34 AM. Well, at least she’d gotten _some_ rest.   
  
His hold on her tightened as he nuzzled her neck. It was clear what his intent was; she could feel his erection against her. She didn’t mind, though – well, except for some scruples about not loving him. Today might be the last day of her life – even if they won – and she wanted… needed to have this.   
  
Liam loosened his embrace and Willow turned in his arms, kissing him with all the ardor he could desire. He could feel her skin, warm and soft beneath his hands, as he pushed up her nightshirt. “I want you,” he whispered.   
  
She moaned as his fingers moved between her legs, and he cursed the cotton of her panties for acting as a barrier… so he tore them away. While her eyes widened in surprise and momentary pain, it didn’t seem that he’d destroyed the mood. She was ready for him.  
  
Seconds later, she was on her back and he was inside her.   
  
As much as she wanted this, she hadn’t exactly been prepared for him to move this fast. Boy, that was kinda the way their whole relationship was, huh? Plus, the whole underwear-tearing thing… still, she had to admit that having someone want her so badly was sort of hot. Did Angel… Okay, no. No thinking about Angel while she was having sex with someone else.  
  
“Liam,” she breathed, guilt making her desperate to acknowledge she knew who she was with. For a moment, she wondered if she should keep her eyes open, but since Liam and Angel looked a whole lot alike… She was being paranoid and overcompensating and it was almost killing her desire. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself – forced herself – to get lost in the sensations Liam was creating in her.  
  
He was amazing. She couldn’t take that away from him. The way he touched her… it was as if he worshipped her. Maybe he did. She willed herself to stop thinking, just to keep her head above the guilt that threatened her with its vicious undertow.  
  
Making love to Willow was the most perfect experience of Liam’s life, both as human and vampire, and he was never going to get enough of her. The way she’d said his name… it had been like a prayer. She loved him – she did – even if she hadn’t said those exact words yet.   
  
Her heat was a miracle, sinking through his cold skin and seeming to warm him through. He gazed at her face – eyes closed, seemingly lost in bliss. He could look at her forever… _would_ look at her forever. Angel had never had this. Right now, he was spending his last corporeal night alone, probably wishing he was where Liam was right now.   
  
His own eyes closed as he grew closer and closer to release, driving harder into Willow, wanting to take her over the edge with him. Her cries were in his ears as she fell. A second later, he followed her.  
  
Oh god. That was so good. It was always so good. Willow opened her eyes and Liam was still above her, gazing at her with so much love. The undertow she’d managed to avoid finally sucked her under. Here was someone who wanted her, needed her, adored her – and who had even killed Faith to save Oz’s life. She owed him; she did. Tomorrow, after all, he was going to be risking his life right along with the rest of them. Couldn’t she give him something? It wasn’t like she’d be exactly lying, anyway, because someday – and that day was going to be very soon – she was going to mean it.   
  
Staring up into Liam’s eyes, Willow finally said what she knew he most wanted to hear. “I love you.”  
  
  
  
Angel could feel sunrise in the itch that crept up his skin, just as it did for every vampire. He’d gotten some fitful sleep, but his dreams had been full of Willow, so he could hardly claim it had been restful at all. Ye gods. This Ascension might be the last battle he ever fought and what was he worrying about? Love.   
  
He’d never been like this when he was human. Love for him had been any interval spent between a woman’s thighs – not an emotion, just an act. This wasn’t the first time he’d wondered whose soul he possessed, because it certainly didn’t seem much like the one which had animated the human he’d been – the human whose name had been stolen by the lookalike now sharing Willow’s bed… and everything else.  
  
So again the train of thought headed straight back to the station from whence it had departed. Willow.   
  
Damn it. She should be here right now, not with that damaged shadow she pitied enough to allow him to possess her.   
  
And didn’t he know that wasn’t his soul talking. No, indeed.   
  
That didn’t mean he wasn’t right, though. Liam didn’t know her – all he knew was that she was the antithesis of the creature with the same face who’d tortured him in his own world. She was a way to get some of his own back, a bandage for open wounds. Maybe he thought he loved her, but Angel didn’t see it that way. And no, he didn’t believe that was just wishful thinking.   
  
But what about _him_? Did _he_ love her? Really? Or was it just attraction?  
  
His mind flashed back to the way she’d dressed him down for not taking Buffy out for coffee, to seeing her do her best to hold her own on patrol, to how eager to help she’d been when he’d asked her to find out about Ford… to how she’d felt in his arms in the boiler room. He hadn’t loved her then – he knew that – but all those memories were things he loved about her now. He loved the hideous clothes she wore and the confusing way she babbled and the way her brow furrowed when she was at her computer and how stubborn she was when it came to being in the line of fire. He loved the way she could go from reading Sartre to talking to Xander about comic books. He loved the way her lips felt against his.  
  
He loved Willow. There was no talking himself out of it. When this was all over? He was going to convince her to give him a chance.  
  
  
  
Buffy was roused from admittedly not very sleepy sleep by a knock on the front door. Who the heck was it this early? No way to know without answering, was there? Not when you’d erased the phrase ‘come in’ from your vocabulary, even in daytime, which it sort of was.  
  
Stumbling down the stairs in her cow pajamas, Buffy opened the door and… there was Oz. “Hey,” she said, wishing like heck that she’d chosen something a whole lot sexier to sleep in last night. But there was that smile and she figured maybe it didn’t matter.   
  
“Hey,” he said in return as she stepped back and let him come inside.  
  
It was barely light outside and it suddenly occurred to Buffy to wonder if something was wrong. “Are you okay?”  
  
Oz didn’t answer… well, not with words. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.   
  
“Mmmm… very okay,” Buffy said a moment later. “I missed you last night.”  
  
“Me too.”   
  
She kissed him again, wondering if she should ask if he was his usual Boy Scout self – you know, _prepared_. Not that she was sex-crazed or anything, it was just… Okay, okay. Sue her. Impending battle had a way of making a Slayer horny. Add to that the fact that she had a boyfriend who it was not only _safe_ to have sex with, but also fun, and… “You wanna go upstairs?” Smooth one there, Buffy. Very seductive. Maybe you should have just made an obscene hand gesture while you were at it.  
  
Much to her surprise, Oz seemed to like her approach. He smiled. “Sort of hoped you’d ask.”   
  
For a moment her hormones gave her a break and she wondered: should she talk to him about the other things Faith had said in her vision? The stuff that didn’t seem to be about today’s big event? But then Oz kissed her again and she figured it would keep.   
  
She led her guy upstairs. Because this? This wouldn’t keep.  
  
  
  
The early morning meeting was over and it had even been productive despite – actually because of – Wesley having been there. He’d found out about the eclipse – handy knowledge. It meant that Angel and Liam weren’t going to have to go back to the mansion and wait for nightfall to be of any use; instead they could actively take part in the battle. Of course, it also meant they’d be sorely needed. The Mayor’s own vampire pals were sure to be providing muscle. Angel was starting to think that there wasn’t any truly good news to be had.   
  
At least not for him. Despite the scents of soap and shampoo which predominated, Liam also had Willow’s scent all over him. No need to ask how he’d spent the morning, even if that glamour of hers did seem to eradicate the sexual evidence. It was bad enough having imagined what they had done; the olfactory confirmation was like a draught of holy water drunk deep.   
  
It was all Liam could do not to smirk at his companion. Angel could certainly smell exactly how Liam had whiled away the early morning hours – and oh so pleasurably. But best of all had been the words he’d finally heard: I love you. After this morning’s news confirmed that he and Angel would be in the thick of things – a happenstance he’d somehow always foreseen – it was a certainty that now he’d be able to do the one thing necessary to make his life as perfect as it could be.  
  
Angel had better enjoy these last few hours. They were the last he’d be spending on Earth.  
  
  
  
Explosives had been acquired, students had been armed – all was in readiness. Now all they had to do was put on their gowns, gather for the ceremony… and wait for the Mayor to ascend. Buffy was with Giles, talking about the plans for the explosion, no doubt, and Willow found herself sitting on the curb by the van. With Oz.  
  
“Kind of amazing how easy it was to convince everybody about the Mayor being a demon and all, huh?”  
  
“Maybe they just followed his last campaign.”  
  
Willow laughed, she’d sort of forgotten Oz’s sense of humour, and she hated the idea of breaking the mood, but she still felt the need to say something. “I’m glad for you guys – you and Buffy, I mean. I hope you know that.”  
  
He reached over and put his hand over hers. “I know. Thanks.”  
  
“You guys deserve to be happy.”  
  
Oz smiled, but then he gave her a searching glance. Did he know? Oh god. Had he noticed the lack of change in her scent? He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he leaned in and hugged her gently. “You too.”  
  
“Probably time to get all gussied up for the Ascension, huh?”  
  
“Yeah. Don’t want to keep the Mayor waiting.” He got up and extended his hand, helping Willow to her feet. Still a gentleman. Buffy deserved that in a guy.   
  
Willow stopped short as Oz paused as they were walking back to the school. “I kinda forgot to thank you. You know, for saving my life last night.”  
  
That was sweet, but… “I didn’t do much. Just mixed the potion and stuff. But you’re welcome.” She paused before adding, “Liam was really the one who did the important stuff.” Mentioning the whole ‘killing Faith’ thing would probably be bad, so she didn’t. Still, she could tell that it hung in the air and she blurted out, “She was gonna try and kill us all today – or at least help.”  
  
“Thanks.” The look in his eyes… It had never occurred to her that Oz might feel guilty, but he had, and somehow she’d stumbled into saying the right thing. About time, huh? It sort of paid him back at least a little bit for the bad things she’d done to him when she’d been his girlfriend.  
  
“I’ll tell Liam you said thanks, too,” she offered as they started walking again.  
  
Okay, Oz’s face wasn’t exactly expressive, but she could still read him well enough to know when there was something under the surface – like now. Her paranoia reared its head again. But all Oz said was, “Yeah,” and then nothing more. The rest of their trip back into the soon-to-be-destroyed school was totally silent.  
  
  
  
“Man, just ascend already.”   
  
Buffy fought back a shocked giggle at Willow’s remark. “Evil.”   
  
She had to admit, though, that Willow had a point. Snyder’s speech had been, like the man himself, long on short and short on sentiment and inspiration. The Mayor’s speech? Bo-ring. Well, except for the pointed remark he was making right now about people who should be there and weren’t and the glare directed straight at her. Guess she was getting the blame for Faith’s death. If he only knew the circumstances of her last encounter with her fallen sister Slayer. Her hand went to the place in the sleeve of her gown where Faith’s knife was concealed. Had she really been helped by Faith at all?  
  
No time left for thinking about that. She and Willow shared a look – no, the Mayor didn’t have indigestion. The Ascension was now in progress. He obviously realized it too as the clichéd rhetoric stopped and he gasped out, “It has begun. My destiny. It’s a little sooner than I expected. I had this whole section on civic pride.” Oh god, was he really shuffling his cue cards? “But I guess we’ll just skip to the big finish.”   
  
You know, Anya was an annoying, cowardly wimp, but she might have had a point with the town-leaving, Willow realized as she stared up at what was rapidly becoming an even bigger demon than the ones she’d fought thanks to the Sisterhood of Jhe. If this was a true demon, she never wanted to see another one as long as she lived – assuming she lived at all. Was he looking at her? Please don’t let him be on a kosher diet.   
  
“Now!” Buffy yelled, and Willow breathed deep, threw off her gown, and man… woman-ed up. She had weapons; she had magic. No giant snake was going to keep her from fulfilling the dream she’d had since kindergarten – getting her PhD. Besides, she had so much else to live for. Her friends, Ang… Liam, turning Amy back into a human.   
  
Aiming her crossbow, she fired a bolt straight at the Mayor. Take that!  
  
  
  
The sky had grown dark and Liam, along with Angel, led a group of students into position behind the Mayor’s cadre of vampires. The fight wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped. There had been casualties on their side, it was clear. Dammit. Liam should have insisted on taking charge or at least tried harder. Xander as a general? In his own world, Xander had been good for nothing but torture and even then, he’d only taken the lead when Liam had been weakened by Will… the creature who had worn his love’s face.   
  
If anything happened to Willow… He grabbed a vampire who’d been about to sink his teeth into that vapid-looking blonde he vaguely recalled and twisted his neck, before ending him with a well-placed stake.   
  
Angel kept his focus on the vampires he was fighting, doing his best not to think about Willow, who’d looked as beautiful as he’d ever seen her, firing flaming arrows at the undead horde. He’d be no good to anyone if he allowed himself to be distracted. Win the day, he told himself. Win the day. That was what mattered right now.  
  
Of course then, something occurred to him – he’d told Buffy he was leaving town. How was he going to explain why he was still here tomorrow?  
  
Mind back in _this_ fight, boy. Worry about the rest when the battle’s won.  
  
As if to punctuate his thoughts, he picked up a still-flaming arrow from the ground and stabbed one vampire before turning and staking another. If Willow could only have seen…  
  
What was going on over there? Liam – he was in trouble; seemingly wounded and being chased off into the darkness by two vampires. As much as the man might be his romantic rival, he wasn’t the enemy, and Angel wasn’t going to let him be slain. With a nod at Oz, who’d suddenly appeared in his eye-line, armed with an axe, Angel took off after his counterpart.  
  
  
  
Buffy raced for the library, Mayor McDemon in hot pursuit. Her lungs burned as she ran faster than she ever had in her whole life. Looked like even her Slayer gifts had their limits, not that she was letting those limits limit her at all. Nosiree. If loving a vampire had taught her anything, it was that breathing was so overrated. Besides, she’d have time to be winded later, after the Mayor was in bite-sized pieces all over campus.  
  
And you know, you didn’t have to be aiming for a degree in psychology to know that there was something really gross and Freudian about a giant snake demon named Dick.  
  
Making it to the library, she didn’t even turn around. The hot, demon breath told her he was right where he needed to be – surrounded by explosives. She kept running until she got to the window. Then she leapt through it and rolled straight to Giles. He pushed the plunger…  
  
And now Sunnydale was going to need to hold a special election.  
  
  
  
Liam smiled as he heard the explosion. One more bad guy had bitten the dust – just like those two idiot vampires who’d fallen for his ‘wounded animal’ routine… well, actually three.   
  
“Liam?” Ah, Angel. A lamb to the slaughter.  
  
“Over here,” Liam called out, luring Angel into the pitch-black behind an out-building.   
  
He looked so surprised when he saw that Liam was alone, the expression on his face… Liam was so grateful for the enhanced sight that allowed him to see it. Subtly, he got himself into position. “She’s mine,” he said, his voice low but deadly serious. “You should have known better than to touch what isn’t yours.” Before Angel could say a word in reply, Liam was on him.  
  
The real battle had begun.  
  
  
  
“Have you seen Ang… el and Liam?” Willow asked Oz, wanting to kick herself for that almost-correction. Not like asking about Angel would be considered strange to anyone else – well, until now. Oz was giving her a look again.   
  
“I saw Liam get chased by a couple of vampires. Angel went to help him. That was a couple of minutes ago though.”  
  
Oh god. A couple of minutes ago? They could be in real trouble. Without stopping to worry about causing more curiosity, Willow hoisted her crossbow again. “Which way did they go?”   
  
  
  
Angel could hardly believe what was happening. He was fighting for his life against – well – a _version_ of himself. And he wasn’t nearly as sure of winning as he wished he was. His twin was a damn strong and crafty fighter and it was taking everything Angel had just to hold his own.  
  
“She told me she loves me,” Liam hissed, as he aimed a stake at Angel. “This morning, when I was still inside her.”  
  
Well, if Liam had thought that would weaken him, the bastard didn’t know him as well as you’d think. “She lied to you. She feels sorry for you. She already told me she doesn’t love you. You’re a damn fluke, just like Xander Harris.” Either his words or the sudden arrival of emergency vehicles at the school – Angel didn’t care which – startled Liam enough for him knock the stake out of his hand, and it clattered to the ground feet away. Of course, he took a brutal punch to the jaw for his trouble.  
  
Willow finally reached the building and saw two vampires fighting in the red glow of the lights from the ambulances. She stayed in the shadows as she tried to figure out what was happening and how she could help. Oh god. There were only two? But…  
  
Oh god, oh god, oh god. The two were Liam and Angel. They were fighting. Why were they fighting?  
  
Liam’s true face emerged as he cried out his rage at Angel’s words. “You pathetic, lying weakling. I’ll be making love to her in your bed tonight. Everything you have will be mine – everything. No one will even miss you. I’m the only one they need. I’m a better fighter than you, a better vampire, a better man in every way. You’ve been holding my place for me, that’s all.”  
  
Aiming for Angel’s neck, he went in for the kill the old-fashioned way… only to be head-butted. He and Angel were rolling on the ground now, every move a potential death blow. Victory after such a hard fight would be sweet… and he was certain it would be his, no matter how desperately his worthless foe clung to the life to which he had no right. “Willow is mine,” Liam cried. “She'll always be mine – forever. I own her!”  
  
Willow stayed in the shadows, paralyzed by Liam’s words and terrified of what might happen if he realized she was here. He was… but he was… What was she going to do? Should she go get Buffy? Or would that…?  
  
This was all her fault. If she hadn’t kissed Angel… but Liam – this sounded like so much more than…. She cared about him, though. She didn’t want Angel to kill him. She’d made love to him this morning, told him she loved him, and yeah, okay, she hadn’t totally meant it, but she wanted to mean it and... But now… owned?   
  
She had to go get Buffy, even if it meant making everyone angry at her because of the lies she’d told and the secrets she’d kept. Just as she was about to race off to find her friend, however…  
  
Liam was finally at the point of victory. He sank his teeth into Angel’s neck, savoring the taste of his hated rival’s blood. A few moments, that was all it would take and then everything Angel had would be his. His position in this town, the money to keep Willow in proper style… the world entire. He drank deep and greedily, enjoying the thrashing of the defeated wretch.   
  
It was over. Hell yawned before him, open and ready to receive him again. Angel could almost hear the mocking laughter of his tormentors in his ears. Liam’s fangs were like daggers in his neck and try as he might, he couldn’t seem to fight him off. He closed his eyes, remembering the last kiss he’d shared with Willow, committing every sensation to every cell of memory. If he forgot everything else, please, if only God could answer one prayer and let him remember Willow.  
  
There was no time to get Buffy. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Liam… he was draining Angel! What should she do?  
  
A stake. There was a stake right over there. Racing to it, she picked it up, ran to the pair on the ground, and brought the stake down…  
  
Through the back and into the heart of her first lover. As he turned to dust, Willow collapsed to the ground in tears.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	56. Chapter Fifty-Five

Feral (Chapter Fifty-Five)  
  
  
  
Angel could barely process what was happening. Just a second ago, he’d been readying himself for an eternity in Hell and now… now there was dust swirling over him and Willow was on the ground beside him, sobbing her heart out.   
  
The stake he could see just inches away told the story, didn’t it? She’d killed him – Liam.  
  
He sat up and pulled Willow into his arms. “Shh. It’s okay,” he murmured. But it wasn’t, not for either of them, least of all for her. His mind went back to dusting his sire and he realized that now there was another person in the world who could understand what he still felt… and he wished she couldn’t.   
  
Should he thank her? Or would that just make her feel worse? He had no idea what to say. Liam might not have been her love, but he’d been her lover – her first – and it must have been agonizing for her to put that stake through his heart. She’d done it, though. She’d done it for _him_. If only he could feel exhilarated by that; he couldn’t, though.   
  
Never once had he thought it would turn out like this. Never once had he wanted Liam dusted.  
  
A moment ago, Willow had breathed in vampire dust. It wasn’t the first time – after all, she’d patrolled with the Slayer for years – but this time… this time, oh god, it was Liam. She’d breathed in Liam. It felt like she was going to be sick, but she managed not to. Somehow it seemed disrespectful.   
  
She still couldn’t take it all in. How could she have done that? How could she have killed… not just someone she knew, but someone she _knew_? “I told him I loved him,” she said softly, her voice hollow and flat, “I did. This morning. I told him that. Right after we made love.”  
  
Angel let go of her and she wondered why for a moment, but then he stood and helped her to her feet. Guess that was a good thing. The cement wasn’t very comfortable. “Did you mean it?” he asked and the words rang in her ear like the sound of her stake hitting the pavement.  
  
“No,” she whimpered, “but I wanted to.” She was back in Angel’s arms, crying. Lost in the wave of pain and self-hatred was the fact that she’d saved Angel’s life, that Liam had been dangerous and deluded. All she could think about was the fact that she’d rescued him from her evil doppelganger only to kill him herself, and she didn’t think she was nearly as different from her double as she wanted to be.  
  
  
  
“We won,” Buffy said, her voice full of the wonder she couldn’t help but feel at having pulled this one out of the fire… or into it, since there were now crispy Mayor McNuggets all over the grounds of what had once been Sunnydale High.   
  
Oz put an understanding arm around her. “We did.” The smile on her face now was all for him. He was an even better toy surprise than that sparkly umbrella she’d received at the Prom.   
  
Xander and Giles stumbled over, clearly worse for battle but smiling. “Hey.” There was a look of smug triumph on Xander’s face, which Buffy couldn’t really blame him for. He’d done a pretty awesome job of turning all their classmates into a victorious army. If he was impossible to live with for a week or three, he’d pretty much earned it.   
  
The four of them stood in the rubble, watching as Wesley was carried off to an ambulance, whining loudly all the while, staring at the throngs of students and emergency workers milling around, just enjoying the victory over… ‘exploding gas pipes.’ Yeah, a classic Sunnydale excuse. What would an apocalypse be without one?  
  
It was at that moment that she looked around and realized that three of them were missing. “Guys? Do we know where Willow and Angel are? And Liam?”  
  
That smug look Xander had still been wearing was gone in an instant, replaced by sheer panic. Ditto for Giles. Oh god. This might be very bad. What if…?  
  
“Liam and Angel were fighting some vamps by that building over there,” Oz said, indicating one of the few remaining intact structures on campus, “Willow went to help.”  
  
Buffy didn’t need to hear more, she raced for the building, the others close behind her. Nothing had better have happened to her best friend.  
  
  
  
“I killed him,” Willow said again, though maybe she’d only said it before in her head. Did it really matter? “I can’t believe I killed him.”  
  
“You saved my life.” Angel had said that before, too, hadn’t he? But it was finally sinking in. Her mind flashed back to the things she’d heard Liam say – how he was going to take everything Angel had, how he owned _her_.  
  
“He was crazy, wasn’t he?” She couldn’t help herself; she started laughing hysterically. “I lost my virginity to an insane vampire.”  
  
Of course, at just that moment, Buffy, Oz, Xander, and Giles appeared. Willow suddenly had a feeling she was going to pay for her sins, and pay very dearly indeed.  
  
Buffy’s relief at the sight of Willow and Angel was quickly buried beneath shock as she heard Willow’s words. “You had sex with Liam?”   
  
_Well, maybe you ought to ask Little Red Riding Hood about that._  
  
Guess she knew what Faith had meant by that now, huh?  
  
If she had any doubts about her interpretation of what she’d just heard, Willow’s incredibly guilty expression obliterated them – as did Angel’s. Guess he’d gotten the memo before she had, huh?  
  
“Uh huh.” Willow’s face was bright red and there were tears in her eyes.  
  
Before Buffy could say anything, though, Giles spoke up. “What on Earth were you thinking? My god! You know what unleashing Angelus would mean, the horrible things…”  
  
“There was never any danger of him losing his soul,” Angel interjected, not about to see Willow abused after everything she’d endured… after saving his life. As much as he would never have chosen this as the way for Buffy to learn the truth, maybe it was for the best anyway. “His… _our_ souls can only be lost if we forget what we are, if we feel purely human. He didn’t feel that with Willow.”  
  
Something crumbled behind Buffy’s eyes and Angel felt a brief pang, but yes, her illusions needed to die, so he stayed silent and waited for the words he knew she was going to say. “But you felt that with me.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“You’re sure?” Giles’s voice sounded hollow, but not in the same way as Buffy’s, and Angel knew what the man was regretting – that this meant Angel too could be happy. Jenny’s death might not have been his fault, but it would always be laid to his account.   
  
Maybe it would be best if he left town after all.   
  
Willow answered, knowing even as she did that she was putting herself in the crosshairs of wrath that was probably pretty understandable. “Yeah. We’re sure. I looked at… I looked over Ms. Calendar’s notes.”  
  
What she hadn’t expected, but should have, was that Oz would step in and ask a question. “Where’s Liam?” She had to admit it was a very good question though, even if it was one she was terrified to answer.  
  
“Dust,” Angel said before Willow could. Was he going to explain what happened? He wasn’t saying anything else. Should she?  
  
There had been so much deception, so many omissions and half-truths… she wasn’t good at this. ‘Liar’ hadn’t figured in any of her essays on what she wanted to be when she grew up and she didn’t like thinking of herself that way. “I staked him.”  
  
Buffy could almost feel her eyeballs pop out of her head. Willow? Willow had staked Liam? There were a million questions all fighting to be the first one she asked, but they got lost in Faith’s voice, echoing in her mind once again.  
  
 _One minus one equals one. It’s a start. One minus one equals one. And it’s a finish._  
  
This was what she’d meant, wasn’t it? Suddenly it all made perfect sense. Two Slayers, but there was only supposed to be one. Two Angels, and there… “One minus one equals one,” she said unthinkingly. And then there was… “Curses are foiled again.”  
  
She suddenly realized that everyone was staring at her. “Faith said it. In the vision yesterday. I didn’t know what she meant – not then. Guess I do now.” It was too much: Oz almost being wolfed forever; Faith’s death; the Mayor; now this. Speaking of Oz… her eyes met his and she could see so many questions.  
  
Welcome to the club because she still had millions of her own. She started with one as she turned her eyes back to Willow. “Why did you stake him?”  
  
Angel decided to spare Willow the task of answering. “He was trying to kill me.” The fewer the details the better, he felt, and not just for his own sake; Willow had a right to maintain at least some scraps of privacy. What she needed was peace and some quiet and space to deal with the trauma she’d been through today.  
  
Of course, instead, Giles would have to be the eternal Watcher, always nosing around for details. “Why? Why on Earth would Liam try to kill you?”  
  
If he’d expected a pair of eyes to shrewdly assess him, he hadn’t expected them to belong to Oz, but then he realized they weren’t the only ones. Xander, Giles… and now Buffy. All of them were appraising him as if he were somehow the villain. There was a certain ironic hilarity in that. Each of them had hated Liam and seemingly would have welcomed his death – until now, anyway. Faith had prophesized this from beyond the grave? Angel was sure she was laughing madly right now. He simply stood mute, waiting for the other shoe to drop. A hypothesis was sure to be forthcoming; he could only hope it was benign.  
  
It seemed he had fortune on his side after all. “Is this because of what happened at the mansion? Man could that guy hold a grudge.” After this, Angel might actually have to like Xander.  
  
Unfortunately, Xander did not carry the day. Buffy had that look on her face, the one he remembered so well, the one that said that behind those eyes, wheels were spinning… and then they skidded to a stop. “Willow,” she said, in the same hollow tone with which she’d repeated Faith’s revelations. “This was about Willow.”  
  
Oh god. Oh no. This was so not part of the whole honesty pledge Willow had made to herself. She wasn’t ready for this, she couldn’t handle it… please, whoever was in charge up there… they couldn’t possibly force her to handle this.  
  
Could they?  
  
“I killed him,” she said, nodding at the same time, as if she was agreeing with Buffy – as if Buffy meant Liam’s death and not… well, other stuff. And if this meant that she was once again sinking into the muck and mire of prevarication and deceit, then so be it. The dust of the first lover she’d ever had was still burning in her lungs – because she’d created it – and the knowledge of exactly who and what he had been was still trying to form into some sort of logical framework in her mind.  
  
The Mayor might be dead, but guilt was a monster in its own right and it was swallowing her as surely as any primordial snake demon ever could.   
  
The universe, however, had judged her harshly and now seemed determined to feast on anything she had left. She’d been right about Buffy meaning other stuff because then her friend turned her accusing eye on Angel and said, “You love her.”  
  
Buffy had held at least some of the pieces to this puzzle for so long that she felt slow and stupid now as the picture began to form. Oh, some of the center pieces, the ones with the detail, were still missing, but she had the outline and that was enough to show her what it was all about.   
  
Her eyes locked with Angel’s and she waited, her thoughts still chaos. This knowledge hurt, and she wished it didn’t, because she loved Oz – she did. It was just… she felt betrayed and she felt… yes, again, stupid. Because she’d confronted Angel about the beginnings of this what felt like so long ago and he’d lied, saying those pictures meant nothing. She’d taken him at his word, even after they’d broken up.   
  
All of a sudden, it occurred to her – how did Oz feel about Willow and Liam? Was she sure she wanted to know? Graduate from high school and – poof! – everything is complicated.   
  
Finally, Angel nodded, not that she’d needed him to. The others apparently had, though, and it looked like Xander was about to go supernova on him. Was it petty of her that her first thought was that she was going to enjoy this? She got past it quickly, though, at least you could say that for her.   
  
Oz, however? He was even more mature than she was. “I think we should all go home. Relax. Enjoy the victory.”  
  
Angel’s eyes met Oz’s and he hoped the wolf realized just how grateful he was to him. Yes, there was a lot that should be dealt with, but now? They were all tired and drained and on edge. Rationality would prevail after some sleep and sober reflection.  
  
Xander appeared inclined to argue, but Oz's calm retenue seemed to exert influence even over Harris’s unruly tongue. Instead of making some loud and insulting remark, Xander went over to Willow and hugged her as he whispered in her ear. His words were clearly not intended for anyone else to hear, but Angel’s enhanced senses scotched that. “We’re gonna have a talk soon, okay? Because this demon thing is just not good.”  
  
  
Hypocrite, heal thyself, Angel thought, remembering Xander’s most recent paramour, but at least he wasn’t being abusive to Willow over what had happened; Angel was more grateful to Oz than ever.  
  
He watched as Oz walked over and took Buffy’s hand; this time the whispering truly was inaudible so he didn’t know what words were exchanged between the pair, but Buffy nodded and then turned to Giles. “I’ll be getting a ride home with Oz. Can you drop Xander off?” He wondered why she’d said nothing about Willow: Was it because she wanted to spare her a Watcher-style grilling or was she too angry to care about her best friend?   
  
The adrenaline was wearing off fast and Buffy felt dizzy. Oh how she hoped that Oz really wasn’t in the mood for conversation… or sex. All she really wanted was for him to hold her, to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to a world where Angel’s curse was the way she used to believe it was and where Willow hadn’t been having secret sex with Liam.  
  
Dead, dusty Liam. Liam, who she had just sort of, kind of started to like only to find out that apparently she’d been right about him all along. Just her luck – now that she could say ‘I told you so’, she was too tired and confused to even want to. After one last pan around the group, she turned to Oz and said, “Let’s go.”  
  
Feeling Giles and Xander behind her as she let Oz guide her to the parking lot where his van was waiting, Buffy tried not to think about Willow and Angel, who were still back where they had left them. She leaned against Oz. “I love you,” she said softly. In a world of lies, there was that one truth.  
  
Buffy had barely looked at her, not that Willow blamed her. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be looking in the mirror tonight when she brushed her teeth before bed.   
  
Oh god. Bed. Bed. The bed she’d just made… with Liam. Oh god. “He’s gone.” Her voice was hollow and she could feel the space where feelings should go, but she had too many of them and she couldn’t choose between them to fill that yawning but somehow finite void. “He’s gone and it’s my fault.”  
  
Angel pulled her close. “You saved me.” That was true and it should mean something, shouldn’t it? Maybe it would later. She didn’t know. Her brain, that beloved organ on which she’d depended her whole life long, was falling down on the job and she couldn’t make order out of the chaos that had consumed her mind. No sifting and sorting and making sense of the day’s events. Instead it was like a hurricane, gathering everything up into its whirlwind.   
  
Here he was, holding the woman he loved in his arms, the woman who had just saved him from an eternity in Hell, and yet Angel could not have felt much less triumphant. There was so much more to be dealt with than Liam’s death. The truth was out. All of it. Buffy was obviously hurt and it was clear Willow was going to have to bear much of the fall-out from not only her, but from Giles and Xander as well… and Oz. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right and Angel wished more than anything that he could do something…  
  
Maybe he could.   
  
“Leave Sunnydale with me.” The suggestion wasn’t shouted but it seemed he couldn’t have startled Willow more if it had been. She pushed herself away from him and stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown an extra head.  
  
“You want me to just run away and leave town?”  
  
  
  
Buffy’s house. It was the one constant in her life. The one place where comfort and safety and familiarity could be found. Well, here and in Oz’s arms, where she also was. They sat on the couch in silence, Oz holding her close. “It’s weird, huh?” Even she wasn’t sure exactly what she was talking about. It could be anything.  
  
“Yeah.” His lips brushed the top of her head and even though she couldn’t see his face, she somehow knew that he had that strangely-peaceful-but-lost-at-the-same-t

ime look.

“Are you freaked? About Willow and Liam, I mean?”

He was silent for a moment before he said, “Kind of… yeah, I guess.” What he said next though – it confused her. “I knew something was up today, before Graduation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her scent. It was… off. Actually, it’s been off for awhile. I never really thought about it, but now that I know… She must have been using a spell or something.” His tone gave away nothing, but Buffy knew him and she knew he felt… guilty or something.

“I should have known something was up with her. I mean, not about her scent, obviously, but… she’s been acting hinky. I should have known something big had happened.”

“Not like you’d have guessed this.”

“No,” Buffy agreed, “this was not something I would have ever thought…” Her voice trailed off.

“You okay?” Oz pulled her closer and she marveled at how sweet and supportive he was – so much so that he wasn’t even asking the question she knew he had to want to.

She decided to answer it anyway. “I’m not sorry – about the whole ‘turns out Angel can have sex with someone who isn’t me’ thing. It’s not that I don’t have feelings about it. Guilt, for instance. But no, I’m not sorry.”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft and indistinct and she wondered what he was thinking.

Guess maybe she should ask, huh? “Are _you_ sorry? That she was with Liam and not you?”

She could actually feel his surprise as he took his arm from around her shoulders and looked into her face. “No. Not at all. I…” He paused for a moment, staring into her eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’m really glad things turned out this way. I am.” As much as it would have shocked her only a few weeks ago, she actually was. Oz was better for her, she realized. They actually had interests they could share besides fighting evil and her Mom even liked him, which was kind of a nice change. Most importantly: he didn’t love the Slayer and accept the girl – he loved the Slayer _and_ the girl. Just like she loved everything about him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she finished.

He smiled. It was a soft, sweet, beautiful smile and it made her heart swell. She cuddled back up against him. If this was her reward for winning the battle against a giant Dick, she’d do this every… well, not week, but once a year, maybe. “Mmm,” she purred, “this is nice.” She felt Oz’s lips against her hair again. “Are you tired?” she asked, wondering if maybe…

But then he answered, “Yeah,” and she realized that she was pretty worn out at that. She was about to say something when he added, “I’ll take a raincheck,” and she smiled. Were they the perfect couple or what?

A moment or so later, she drifted off in his arms.

 

 

As much as she had thought her day had been as unsettling and bizarre and awful as it could get, Angel’s offer added a whole new level of confusion. Willow couldn’t believe he was asking her to just uproot her life and… okay, she was supposed to leave town anyway, what with her having taken the scholarship USC had offered so she could stay reasonably close to Sunnydale without having to attend what she had to admit was a second rate school, but…

“I’m not going to run away. Plus, I…,” how to say this without coming off like a total bitch, “I can’t just jump into a relationship with you. Yes, we’ve done the whole kissing thing, but it’s… it’s way too soon, okay?”

“I’m not asking you to run away,” Angel replied, trying to pretend that that wasn’t exactly what he’d suggested. “I just think you need to get out of here, move on with your life – and so do I. We could move on together, that’s all.”

He pressed his case further. “I don’t expect us to have a relationship right away. I know you’ve been through a lot. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that in the future. I could be… we could be good for each other. I think you know that – at least I hope you do.”

An array of emotions played across her face and in those beautiful green eyes and they all read victory to Angel, or perhaps that was just wishful thinking. Still, her silence wasn’t argument.

“I’m supposed to go to USC,” she offered. “I’ve got a scholarship and everything.”

USC? “That’s in Los Angeles, isn’t it?”

Willow nodded, not sure why Angel almost smiled for a moment, but then he said, “I was planning to move to Los Angeles. Before, when I first told Buffy I was leaving town.”

Oh. “Do they have demons in L.A.?”

“Yeah. It’s not the Hellmouth, but you’d be surprised. Any place full of lost people – they’re easy prey, always a major draw for demons.”

Come to think of it, that made a lot of sense. It was easy to imagine teenage runaways and stuff being kind of an all you can eat vampire buffet, especially since it might draw even less scrutiny than in Sunnydale. Going to L.A. with Angel… she could still fight evil, which she had to admit she would have missed.

It was all too much to think about right now, though. She was tired – so tired. And overwhelmed, don’t forget overwhelmed.

Also, dreading going home to the house she’d shared with Liam.

Angel seemed to read her mind. “You can stay at my house tonight. I have plenty of extra rooms.”

Nodding, Willow took his hand and let him lead her away from the now deserted school grounds. Sleep – she needed sleep. Tomorrow everything would make sense. Tomorrow things would be better.

Right?

 

To be continued…


	57. Chapter Fifty-Six

Feral (Chapter Fifty-Six)  
  
  
  
It had been far too early for Angel to even think of going to bed, but Willow had fallen asleep almost before her head had hit the pillow. She’d looked so adorable, but as much as Angel wanted to sit and watch her, perhaps even make some sketches, he realized that was inappropriate, at least at this stage. For all that she’d been intimate with his twin…  
  
And yet, she’d killed that very creature to save him. He had feelings about that which might be nearly as complicated as the ones he was sure she had.   
  
There was gratitude, and wonder, and a disturbing feeling of triumph. But then there was guilt – so much guilt. Did he want Willow for himself? Of course he did, but he’d never intended for Liam die. No, not that, never that.   
  
He sat on the edge of his bed, his laptop ignored beside him, and ran a hand through his hair. Why hadn’t he seen? How had it gotten to a place where Willow had to kill to save him? Because this simply should not have happened. Not to her. _He_ was the killer, the warrior, she…  
  
It seemed she was both of those things now. Because neither of them could pretend that this was anything like slaying fledges on patrol. Liam was different; Liam had a soul.  
  
In another world, Liam had been Angel.  
  
How were he and Willow ever going to make peace with this?  
  
  
  
 _Willow tossed and turned restlessly in the unfamiliar bed, the cool sheets quickly heating up with the warmth of her body and her constant movement._  
  
The sound of someone entering the room made her sit up rapidly and turn to the door. “Angel. What are you…?”  
  
He was on her in seconds, pinning her to the bed, his hand covering her mouth. “Have you forgotten me so soon? Murdering, faithless whore!”  
  
Liam? Oh god. He wasn’t dust… he wasn’t dead… but it looked like she was about to be. She struggled to cry out, but his hand was clamped tight and he smirked at her. “There’s no one to save you. Your precious Angel is dead. But don’t worry, you’ll be joining him in Hell very soon. There’s just something I want to take care of first… Once more for old time’s sake.” In case she hadn’t figured out what he meant, he ground against her, his intent unmistakable.  
  
Her terror overwhelmed her and any hope of making sense of what was happening was in vain. Liam had somehow survived a stake to the heart, he was about to rape and murder her… and Angel was dead. She was lost.  
  
A hand moved up her thigh and between her legs. No matter how hard she tried to dissociate herself from what was happening, it didn’t work. In fact, it had the opposite effect and intensified every sensation. The hand over her mouth was gone and she tried to reason with Liam, even though she knew it was pointless. “Please. I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this.”  
  
All her words did was provoke scornful laughter from the demon who was about to rip off her underwear and take her in a painful mockery of what she’d once shared with him willingly. “Don’t!” she cried one last time, her voice echoing off the walls.  
  
Screams had reached Angel from across the hall and he was out of his bedroom in a flash. Bursting into the room he’d given Willow, he could see in a scant second that she was caught in the throes of a nightmare. Terror was pouring off her in waves and she was thrashing as if struggling to free herself from an assailant. It didn’t take much to figure out just who was holding her captive in her frightening dream.   
  
As much as he worried what holding her down would do, he had to wake her up, so Angel climbed onto the bed and grabbed the writhing girl. “Willow! Wake up. It’s Angel. You’re safe.”  
  
Her eyes opened, but there was still so much fear in her eyes and she kept struggling. “It was just a nightmare,” he reassured her, hoping it would finally sink in that she was awake – that he wasn’t Liam. “You’re safe. I promise.”  
  
What was happening? Everything suddenly seemed to have changed, or sort of. She was disoriented and unsure of where she was. Yes, she was still on the bed, being held down, but it felt very different. No hands were tearing at her clothes; there was no hateful, mocking laughter. The man above her wasn’t the same, either. “Angel?”  
  
“It’s me.” His eyes were soft and brown and there wasn’t any rage in them. She knew those eyes.  
  
“It’s really you?” She burst into tears. “He told me he killed you.”  
  
“I’m still here,” he said gently as he pulled her up and into his arm. Without understanding why, she cried all the harder. “Shhh,” he soothed, but it didn’t stop her tears. She just clung to him.  
  
“It was so real,” she whimpered after a minute. “He said he’d killed you and he was going to kill me, but first…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, but Angel obviously got it because she could feel his grip on her tightening.   
  
His lips brushed her hair before he spoke again. “He’s gone, Willow. It was just a nightmare. I promise he can’t hurt you.”  
  
“I killed him, Angel. I did.” To that, Angel seemed to have no reply. Guess that was okay. Willow hadn’t really expected one.  
  
  
  
It was morning, much to Buffy’s extreme shock, when she awoke feeling kinda stiff and sore, still sitting next to Oz on the couch. “This is exactly why beds were invented,” she groused under her breath. Not that she minded being next to Oz, but a mattress would have been so much better. At that moment, she thanked her Slayer reflexes as she ducked just in time to avoid getting hit by a stretching Oz-arm.  
  
“Sorry.” His hair had somehow gotten mussed despite the way he’d slept and his eyes were sleepy and still working at the focusing thing.  
  
She leaned against him again and smiled. “S’okay. We both slept for a really long time.” And really, that was a perfectly good excuse for almost anything, because she sure wasn’t used to sleeping that long unless she was sick. Apparently yesterday had been more draining than she’d realized.   
  
“Yeah. Weird.” He stood up and headed in a direction that made sense to Buffy, though she kind of wished she’d thought of it first. Well, he was the guest, so she guessed he had a right to the closer bathroom. She headed upstairs to her own .  
  
Just as she got out, the phone rang, and she ducked into her bedroom to answer it. “Mom? Hi. Oh I’m fine. Mayor’s toast.” She paused to allow for a further barrage of questions from her Mom and then continued, “We all made it through. No, nobody’s injured.” The she remembered the students who didn’t make it and she amended her assertion. “Well, no one you know, anyway. The school’s a lost cause, but hopefully the next Mayor will make sure a new one gets built.” She was about to ask when her Mom was planning to return when she got a surprise – a good one for once. “Oh. A new artist? Cool. Well, yeah, of course you need to stay for the showing. No, no, I’m totally fine.” Great. Here she was with Oz and an empty house and her attitude just make her Mom rush home. “I mean, sure I’ll miss you, but I have food and stuff. I’ll be able to manage for another day or two.” More chatter and then she got a word in edgewise again. “I love you, too. Have fun. See you Monday.”  
  
She hung up the phone, her thoughts turning to Willow. Was she okay? She should call her, shouldn’t she? But what should she say? She should think about it first, try to get her own feelings worked out. Because even though she didn’t have any regrets about Angel or anything, the lying… it bothered her and she couldn’t pretend that it didn’t.  
  
With a sigh, she turned around and was surprised to see that she wasn’t alone. “Oz! Hey. That was my Mom. She found some cool new artist and she’s gonna be gone a few more days. He’s got a showing and she wants to be there.”  
  
“So you’re without parental supervision for awhile longer?”  
  
You know, it was amazing how they always seemed to be on the same wavelength. There were much better ways to spend her time than getting all thinky… at least for a little while. “Sure am.” She turned coy, looking at Oz through half-lidded eyes. “Just me… all alone… in a big, empty house.”   
  
He pulled her into a kiss, and pretty soon, hands were roaming bodies and Buffy felt way less achy than she had when she woke up. Time to do something a whole lot more helpful in getting her head straight than sleep had been. With another of those sly smiles that she was becoming addicted to, Oz patted his pocket. Oh how you had to love a guy who was always prepared. Hooking her finger through the belt loop of his jeans, she pulled Oz toward the bed.   
  
  
  
Willow awoke with a start, surprised that she’d fallen back to sleep. Angel was beside her on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. “Are you okay?” It was a weird kind of good morning greeting, but then again maybe not, at least not after what they’d been through – her nightmare being the least of it.  
  
She propped herself up on an elbow. “Yeah.” Really? “ I mean, I guess so.” And again: really? If she could be honest with anyone, it had to be Angel, so she decided to try it. “No, not so much.”  
  
“Me neither,” Angel offered with a sad half-smile, glad that she was being truthful. She needed someone to talk to… and so did he. “I never meant… I wish I’d seen – what Liam was becoming, I mean. I’d give anything if I could have kept things from turning out this way.”  
  
“Me, too.” As she pushed herself up into a sitting position beside him against the headboard, he saw the fine lines around her eyes. She seemed careworn in a way she hadn’t been before and he hated that she had stepped further into the darkness, the place to which he was accustomed but where she didn’t belong. “But I guess there’s nothing we can do about it now.”  
  
Then she asked him a question that broke his heart. “How do you live with it, Angel? I mean, the whole saving your life thing? I’m glad about that, please don’t think I regret it at all, but it’s just… I keep thinking… I could have wounded him, you know? Did I really have to kill him? But I did and I… How do you live with that? Killing someone?” Her eyes were wide and ocean green with tears.  
  
What could he say that would comfort her? Putting his arm around her, he pulled her head down to his shoulder. “You’re not a killer. You didn’t take a life for sport. You did it to save me. That’s nothing like what I did. You don’t have blood on your hands. Not like me.” It was truth itself, but he knew it would be a long time before she’d believe him.  
  
Willow sat, quiet, for what seemed like an hour, trying to see things the way Angel did but sure that he was wrong. Each of her fingers was as tainted as Lady Macbeth’s. “Are you hungry?” His voice startled her.   
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I think I’ve got some food downstairs.”  
  
“Oh.” She hadn’t even thought about food, but there was an emptiness at the pit of her stomach which suggested it might not be such a bad idea. “Okay.” He got off the bed and extended a hand to her to help her do the same. With some awkward scooting, the deed was accomplished; she let him lead her out of the room and down the imposing staircase. Houses didn’t look like this anymore, at least not houses people like her lived in. Maybe Cordelia’s house had stairs like these. She was a ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous’ kind of girl.  
  
Had Cordelia made it through the battle?  
  
Angel’s kitchen was really nice, especially considering the fact that he didn’t eat.   
  
She’d been in here before, but she’d never really thought about it; she was thinking about it now. Her mind was strange, wasn’t it? Xander always said so.  
  
As Angel was getting something out of the refrigerator, she asked, “Do you think Xander will ever forgive me?”  
  
Willow’s question caught Angel by surprise, though it probably shouldn’t have. Just because he didn’t usually give the boy a second’s thought, that had nothing to do with how Willow felt. What was he supposed to say, though? He barely knew the boy, and didn’t like him much, for all his hastily-made vows to try a bit harder in that regard. “You’ve been friends all your lives,” he equivocated, “and you’ve forgiven him in the past.” That last was a guess, but he figured it had to be a good one. There was no way Xander had been above reproach as a friend.  
  
“He did lie to me about Cordelia,” she mused hopefully and Angel congratulated himself for getting it right. That soft glimmer of relief in her eyes… it was a benediction. Of course, it didn’t last. “But this… I don’t know.”   
  
Angel put the apple and the hunk of cheese he’d gotten from the refrigerator on the counter and put his arms around Willow. “What if he hates me? What if he never forgives me?” It seemed like wherever Willow turned, she only found pain. If only Angel could figure out how to be the one place she could find refuge. For now, he held her as she cried.  
  
  
  
This was nice – so nice. Lying in bed next to the man she loved, listening to him breathe as he stroked her arm, feeling the skin of his chest against her cheek. If there was a heaven, it would have to work really hard to top this.  
  
Of course, it might just be that the folks who ran things there were upset about the competition. Because right then, during this very neat afterglow – which she so had earned, by the way – she heard a voice from downstairs. “Hey, Buffy!”  
  
Great! Xander. You know, it would be just terrific if people would go old school and take up knocking or ringing doorbells. But no, they just barged right into your house. She leapt out of bed, cursing under her breath as she rushed to her dresser for some underwear and clothes which weren’t wadded up on the floor… and covered in traces of Mayor goo. Eww. She’d cuddled with Oz in those clothes. She so owed him for that.  
  
Oh no. She was going to have to clean the couch too.  
  
“Just a minute,” she called down to her most un ever unwelcome visitor. Her grumpiness abated just a bit when she saw the look on Oz’s face as she got dressed. Admiration for her body was always of the good. “Stay here,” she mouthed and then put her finger to her lips. Please let her guy stay up here nice and quiet. This was so not the time to deal with Xander and his double entendres.   
  
Hoping she did not look like someone who’d just had mind-blowingly amazing sex, she bounded downstairs to face Xander…  
  
And Giles. Oh goody. Then she looked out the living room window. Please, please, please let them not…  
  
“Where is Oz?”  
  
… have noticed that Oz’s van was parked right out front.   
  
A few seconds later, and before she’d come up with an answer that didn’t involve the truth, Oz came strolling down the stairs, wearing his very wrinkled t-shirt. How long before Giles began polishing his glasses? Countdown: three-two… Gosh, didn’t even make it all the way to one. This might be a record, even for her.  
  
“Oz. How… nice to see you.” Buffy fought back the urge to giggle, especially since Oz was so calm. It was one of the things she loved about him, the way nothing ever seemed to faze him.   
  
“Yeah. Same here,” he replied with a completely innocent smile. “Hey, Xander.”  
  
Xander seemed about to say something, but to Buffy’s surprise, Giles cut him off. “We… we’re here to discuss what has happened with Willow.”  
  
As weird is it might seem, Buffy was actually surprised. Okay, yes, she was kind of – maybe more than kind of – upset about the lying, but other than that, was there really anything to discuss?  
  
Once again, Oz was on the same page. “What do we need to discuss? She slept with a vampire, he turned evil, and she killed him. Not the first time that’s ever happened.” And you know… he had a point there. Whoa. Willow had just starred in the remake of last year.   
  
Buffy sat down heavily on the couch, feeling kind of strange and oddly guilty, especially for having been upset with Willow. She’d been there. She had so been there. Okay, the lying… but she herself hadn’t always been totally forthcoming and… “Like Oz said, there’s nothing to discuss.”  
  
This time, Xander managed to speak before anyone could stop him, “Yes there is! She lied. She lied to you, to me, to all of us, about important stuff. She did things I don’t even want to think about with a vampire I always knew was evil and now…” His eyes widened and he stopped speaking just before saying what Buffy knew was really the big deal to him.  
  
The elephant in the room.   
  
Getting up again so as to better make her point, she glared at Xander. “This is about you hating Angel. You know what? That’s your problem and nobody else’s. I get that it bothers you, but don’t pretend that this is some big drama that matters to all of us, because me?” She took Oz's hand. “I’m over it. Willow lying isn’t the best thing ever and she and I are gonna talk about it, but if she and Angel end up together, I’ll deal. I’ve moved on.”  
  
“Obviously.” Ah. There was the nasty reference to her sex life she’d been expecting, especially coupled with the dramatic ‘looking them up and down’ thing Xander was doing.  
  
Giles stepped in again. “I think you’ve veered quite far enough into private matters which are none of your business, Xander.” Then he turned to Oz. “You are quite right, you know. About Willow. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I suppose when it comes to her… well, it’s possible I’ve failed to see her as the young woman she is.”  
  
“Old Reliable,” Buffy offered. “Thought we’d all gotten past that.”  
  
“Yes, well, perhaps in my case that perception was a bit premature.” He chuckled ruefully and adjusted his glasses.   
  
“So. We’ve all agreed to handle this like mature adults?” Oz didn’t actually need to nod, but he did. So did Giles. Xander, however…  
  
“I’m not okay with this.” But then he nodded and said, “I’ll try and pretend that I am for the sake of world peace.”  
  
“Good, because after all, Willow forgave you for the down-low with Cordelia and for all the horrible things you did to her when you were hyena-boy which you claim to not remember.” Xander’s eyes shot wide. What? Like he thought she hadn’t looked up possession and its side effects? Did no one give her credit for brains? Slaying demons wasn’t her only super power. Her SAT scores had been pretty darn good.   
  
Giles had his mouth covered and tried to cough to smother his laughter. On that note… “I think that concludes today’s meeting. So why don’t we all spend the rest of the day getting some much needed relaxation, enjoy the fact that we’ll have a new Mayor for the first time in a century soon, and table the Willow-talk until tomorrow. She needs rest too.” Yeah, she sure did. Buffy knew better than any of them what it was like to have to kill your first lover. Willow had to be in agony right now.  
  
With a few more perfunctory remarks – along the lines of ‘goodbye’, only more long-windedly since Giles was involved – the two visitors finally left and Buffy and Oz were alone.   
  
Now they could pick up where they left off.   
  
Oz reached into his pocket… but this time he fished out his keys. “Gotta make a run to the drugstore.”   
  
Oh no. She was so not interested in waiting – especially since they didn’t have to. Those other super powers she had? Snooping was one of them. Snatching the keys from his hand, she said, “No you don’t. I know where my Mom keeps her stash.”  
  
With a grin, she led him right back upstairs. She’d worry about explaining the depleted box of condoms later. Now? She had better things to do.  
  
  
  
“How am I going to face them?” Willow was staring into the fire burning away in his massive stone fireplace and Angel was struck by how much like him she’d become. “How do I explain… I mean, I’m not even sure I can explain it to myself. And…” She stopped then and looked down, clearly uncomfortable.  
  
Angel pressed her. “And what?”  
  
“They’re gonna expect me to be the same, you know? But I can’t be. Not anymore. This… everything… I can’t just go back to being good old reliable net girl Willow, you know? I want to, but…”  
  
He edged closer to her and put his arm around her. No lies. He’d sworn he wouldn’t lie to her. “No. No, you can’t.” What he wanted to tell her was that it wasn’t just killing Liam that had changed her – she’d been changing for some time, growing… becoming something more. She’d become the woman he fell in love with. But he didn’t think she was ready for that, ready to hear that outgrowing her role – the life she knew – had always been in the cards. “My offer’s still open. It doesn’t have to be forever, and you can always come back here and visit. I just think that maybe some distance… it’ll make it easier for you. Give you space to heal. Give you a chance to figure things out.”  
  
Willow leaned her head against his shoulder and spoke so softly that at first he wasn’t sure he heard her.  
  
“Okay. I’ll go with you.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	58. Chapter Fifty-Seven

Feral (Chapter Fifty-Seven)  
  
  
  
Yes, okay, Buffy had told the others that they were going to give Willow another day, but… She held Oz’s hand as they made their way down the crumbling steps and across the little courtyard to the door of Angel’s mansion, sure without even calling to check that Willow would be here. Like she’d really be back at her house – the house that had to be full of memories of Liam. “This is the right thing to do, right?”  
  
Oz nodded. “Yeah. It is.”   
  
What was she going to say? She knew what she wanted to say, of course, it was the ‘saying it right’ part that threatened to trip her up. How was she going to tell Willow that she understood what she was going through without making it seem like it was all about what had happened to _her_? Her foot really did kind of live in her mouth. Oz squeezed her hand, seeming to sense her fears, and if he got any more perfect…   
  
Taking a deep breath, she did the unexpected thing and knocked on Angel’s door. After this morning, she was strictly an old-fashioned girl when it came to entering other people’s houses.   
  
The knock at the door had clearly taken Willow by surprise, but the itchy sensation provoked by the presence of a Slayer had alerted Angel to Buffy’s arrival already, and with Oz in tow. In a sense, however, he was still as surprised as the girl currently getting up from the sofa and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. It wasn’t as if he’d expected Buffy to just come over – not today. Also, the knocking? That was quite unlike her.   
  
He got up, gave Willow a brief hug, and went to open the door. Buffy and Oz were indeed there – the one awkward and looking around nervously, the other preternaturally calm. “Come in.”  
  
And so they did, and it was now awkwardness all ‘round because even Oz seemed unsure of himself once inside. “It’s good to see you,” he said, not sure why. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already known they’d made it through the battle safe and sound. Maybe it was just the first polite thing he had been able to think of.  
  
Willow was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other and biting her lip. It was clear to him that she was thinking about her decision. Did she want him to tell her friends the news? Did she want to share it herself? Did she want to just slip out of town and leave a note?  
  
“We’re leaving,” she blurted out. Well, that answered his question.  
  
Watching Buffy’s eyes widen in shock and confusion… oh god, Willow felt terrible. This was so not how she’d intended to break the news. It was just… she’d been taken by surprise what with their showing up here unannounced and… “I’m sorry. That’s kinda not how I meant to tell you.”  
  
“You mean you’re _leaving_ leaving? As in leaving town… leaving us?” Buffy was so hurt and Willow hated herself even more.  
  
She hastened to try and explain herself better. “No. I’m not leaving _you_ , I just…” Going over to Buffy, she took her hand and looked her straight in the eye. “I killed someone. And I know what you’re gonna say: ‘He was evil, he was trying to kill Angel’. All that stuff. But it doesn’t change the fact that I killed Liam. It doesn’t change the fact that the first guy I ever… had sex with is dead and I did it. I need some space, you know? To go somewhere where I can try and figure out how to…”  
  
“How to look in the mirror and not hate the girl you see?” Buffy interjected softly. Pulling Willow into a hug, she said, “I get it, Will. I do.” She was going to add something about having been in this same place herself not long ago, but she thought better of it. That wasn’t what Willow needed to hear. Because maybe some things were the same but Buffy was Buffy and Willow was Willow and each of them had their own feelings, their own pain. “I love you,” she whispered in her best friend’s ear. Now _that_ , she figured, was something Willow needed to hear. Nothing could have been more true.  
  
Was she still angry about the lies? Oddly, no. She’d thought she was, but somehow it had all gone away, maybe when she saw the pain in Willow’s eyes… or maybe when Oz had held her in his arms today and everything had felt so perfect. How could she be angry about _anything_ which had led her to that?  
  
So yeah, maybe sometimes the end did justify the means.  
  
Okay, how selfish was it to be thinking of how happy you were when your dearest friend was suffering? She tightened her hold on Willow for a moment before letting go. “It’s okay. And hey, wherever you go, I’ll visit.”  
  
“Los Angeles,” Angel informed her, relieved by the equanimity with which Buffy was accepting the news.  
  
Buffy seemed pleased. “Oh. That’s not far at all. We can totally see each other.”  
  
While Buffy was handling all of this with aplomb, Angel wasn’t sure how Willow was feeling. He knew she was convinced that leaving was the right thing, but he also knew that there was so much she was going through and that she wasn’t sure how to react. Would it have been better for her if Buffy had reacted badly? Would that have given her an outlet for her turmoil? He didn’t know. But since Willow wasn’t saying anything, he decided to speak for her. “She’s going to help me. There’s a lot of demon activity in Los Angeles and no one there to handle it.”  
  
Oz was the one to answer this time. “Sounds good.” But then he surprised everyone by asking, “Willow, can we talk?”  
  
“Okay.” Willow was obviously hesitant, but she smiled at him as if to reassure him and then she and Oz headed toward the kitchen. Good choice. Less formal then the library.  
  
Of course now, here he was – alone with Buffy. What on Earth were they going to say to each other?  
  
  
  
Willow leaned against the counter, trying to seem nonchalant but probably not managing. She’d never pulled off nonchalant successfully in her whole life. Better to just give it up. “Are you mad?”  
  
All right, it had been a while since she and Oz had spent much time together, but she still recognized his surprised face and this was it. Guess he wasn’t mad. When he said, “No,” that made it definite.  
  
“You and Buffy are really happy, aren’t you?” He smiled and then looked away and… she got it. “You’re happier than you were with me, huh.” She should have said it differently because it was pretty obvious he felt guilty and she didn’t want him to. If there was anything good in this whole mess her life had become, it was that two of the people she cared about most in the world had found each other. “It’s okay, you know. You can say it. I’m happy for you guys. I really am.” Her eyes finally connected with his and she hoped he could see that she was totally sincere.   
  
He did. “Thanks. For what it’s worth…”  
  
She shook her head. “Pfft. I was a terrible girlfriend.”  
  
“You weren’t terrible. We just weren’t meant to be. You got that before I did.”  
  
Was he serious? Or was he just trying to make her feel better? Either way, he was still a lot nicer than she deserved. “Thanks.”  
  
Now he was the one who shook his head. “Look, I’m not much good at speeches and I pretty much don’t have the right to make them anymore, not to you, but… What happened with Liam? The first girl I slept with wasn’t a great choice either.” She was about to say something, but he was talking – really talking – and it wasn’t easy for him, so she stayed silent and let him keep going. “I know how hard what you had to do was. And I know Angel’s there for you and that’s great… but don’t feel like you owe him, or anybody, ever. Next time, be with who you want, not just who wants you.”   
  
That was the end. The words stopped. But if this was Willow’s turn, she couldn’t take it. When had Oz become… this? This wise, insightful guy who said things. She grabbed him and hugged him, realizing that she was going to miss him more than she’d ever thought she could. Someday, maybe, if she had the chance, she’d really like to be his friend. “Buffy’s the luckiest girl in the world.” And she meant it.  
  
  
  
“Did you ever give her that drawing?” Smooth, Buffy. Really smooth. Nice way to sound petty and bitter, especially since you’re not feeling either of those things.  
  
The look Angel gave her – total confusion. It was almost funny… if you didn’t take into account the fact that a version of him was dead after trying to kill him. That rendered anything and everything completely unfunny.   
  
She decided to put him out of his… well, not misery, not compared to everything else that was going on in his life, but, whatever it was, she was putting him out of it. “The drawing you made on the computer. The one I got all weird over. It was pretty, you know.”  
  
Angel remembered that drawing. It was gone now, he’d destroyed it in a fit of guilt over his feelings, but yes, he remembered it. “I’m sorry,” he offered. She’d been right to be jealous. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but he’d had feelings even then and he’d been owing Buffy an apology for some time. “I never meant…”  
  
“No apology needed.” He was going to argue, but Buffy had more to say. “Look, I loved you, I did. And I know you loved me, too, but… and hey – totally okay with the break-up, because…”  
  
She paused as if she’d been about to say something and thought she shouldn’t. Angel knew what it was. “You and Oz? He’s the one, isn’t he.” As much as his male pride might have been wounded on another day, in another life… Now he just couldn’t feel anything but glad that someone had come out of all this whole. He and Buffy had been over for so long, even before they’d admitted it and parted ways. She had a right to something real. “You deserve to be happy.”  
  
A part of Buffy wanted to cry and another part still wanted to laugh – this time at the freaksomeness of this. If someone had told her a few months ago that one day she’d be standing in Angel’s living room talking about their love in the past tense and not destroyed by that… “You do too.” Taking Angel’s hand, she looked into his eyes. “For what it’s worth, I think you could make Willow happy… and I think she could make you happy too. Just give her some time, okay?”  
  
Angel nodded, and she hoped he got it, because Willow really didn’t need to be rushed, not right now.   
  
Speak of the Willow…  
  
  
“Hey.” Willow and Oz came back into the room, both looking a lot more peaceful. Oz came and kissed her on the cheek and she could feel that things had been settled. She was glad for him – and for Willow, who’d needed forgiveness and closure more than any of them.   
  
Willow couldn’t help a smile as she saw Buffy and Oz together. It occurred to her that it might have made her jealous if things were different – or at least made her wish she had the same kind of relationship they had – but under the circumstances… Guess there was sort of an up-side to all of this trauma. At least it helped her keep things in perspective.   
  
No, she wasn’t jealous, but looking at Buffy and Oz made her realize just how much had changed in her and how much she needed a place to figure out what it all meant without feeling the need to fit into all her old spaces. There was a new Willow being born and she couldn’t exist if…  
  
For a brief but infinitely agonizing moment, she wondered if this was how Liam had felt in Angel’s town. Had this been what drove him to homicidal madness?  
  
There was one other thing today’s visit had done. Until just a few minutes ago, she hadn’t even been sure she wanted to leave at all, but now? Now she had a feeling of ‘overness’ that seemed to be guiding her out the door and on her way, so to speak. She and Oz had achieved closure – whatever that was – Buffy understood… Staying after today would make it harder, not easier, and she really did need to go. “So now’s the time for the whole goodbye thing, huh.”  
  
Willow’s pronouncement surprised Angel, but he wasn’t going to argue with her – far from it. The look of pain he’d seen cross her face for a few seconds concerned him far more; he went to her and put his arm around her. “The sooner we get down there, the more settled we’ll be by the time classes start at USC.”  
  
“You’re leaving so soon?” It was plain Buffy hadn’t expected this any more than Angel had, but he was going to play it off. Willow had her own reasons for wanting to go now and that was good enough for Angel.  
  
“Tonight,” Angel affirmed.  
  
Willow hurried to Buffy and hugged her and Buffy clung right back. God this was… hard. And suddenly very, very real. Okay, yes, she’d sort of been aware before that there was a kind of possibility that maybe Willow would go off to college, but she had to admit she’d actually been convinced that Willow would change her mind… throw away her intentions to attend one of the many universities who’d practically offered to pay her to attend… Yeah, all right, she’d been selfish and just assumed her friend would settle for UC Sunnydale instead of a really _good_ school, and no, until today, she’d honestly never prepared herself to even entertain the idea that Willow would ever leave – that there would come a day when she couldn’t just walk over to Willow’s house and say, ‘Wanna go get a mocha?’ Not that she’d done that lately, but…  
  
“I’m gonna miss you,” she whimpered through a flood of tears.   
  
“Me too,” Willow choked out right back. She was crying and Buffy felt better about that. She’d almost been scared that she was one of the things Willow needed to get away from. “I love you, Buffy.”  
  
“I love you, too.”   
  
It hurt, right down to her heart, but somehow Willow was more sure than ever that this was the right time. “I should probably go see Xander, huh?”  
  
Oz chimed in. “I can give you a ride.” He was still Understanding Guy and it was almost overwhelming.  
  
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” She turned back to Buffy. “Come with, okay? I have a feeling I’ll need the back-up.”  
  
“Sure thing.” Buffy reached over and took her hand. “I’ll make sure he understands.”  
  
That left Angel. “I’ll be back in a little while,” she said. It just occurred to her that she hadn’t even asked him if he wanted to just pick up and leave tonight. She really owed him an apology. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be now, but luckily he didn’t seem mad or anything. Guess it could wait.   
  
“I’ll make sure the rental car is going to be big enough.” Translation: He’d be on the phone or the computer renting it the minute Willow and the others were out the door. That and making sure they had somewhere to stay in Los Angeles.  
  
Willow said, “Thanks,” Buffy smiled at him and Oz… Oz was Oz. At this moment, Angel was sure he got it – why Willow wanted to leave now – because there was a sense of closure in the group that might be too fragile to withstand a delay, when there was time for Willow’s friends to think and interject their own reasoning and preconceptions into the process.  
  
He watched as the three hurried out the door, thinking more deeply about all the plans he had to make. Where he would have stayed by himself was vastly different from what he considered suitable accommodations for Willow. It was time to rethink his attitude toward using the money his un-souled self had amassed. He’d always resisted spending anything beyond the barest necessity, but… was the money somehow cleaner for remaining hoarded and unspent? Did that even make sense? If he used it to start a life of service in Los Angeles, wouldn’t that go further toward making amends for the manner in which the money had been acquired? Might not that even make a mockery of Angelus’s misdeeds?  
  
It couldn’t exacerbate the villainy, of that Angel was certain, and he wasn’t going to suddenly become wildly extravagant anyway. Willow wasn’t even that kind of girl. Comfort, that was all. Comfort and resources. Heading upstairs to get his laptop and make arrangements, Angel could feel his future forming into something solid before him as if he’d finally figured things out.  
  
Maybe he had.  
  
  
  
The ride to Xander’s house was mostly Buffy-chatter about all the cool places in L.A. they were going to go when she came to visit and Willow wished she knew how to tell her that she was saying exactly what she needed to hear right now. It was such a welcome distraction from the fear she felt about breaking the news to Xander. Nothing, however, could distract her from the waves of guilt that kept crashing over her – she was a killer. How could anything make her forget that for even a second?  
  
“We’re here.” Oz smiled softly at her. “It’s gonna be okay.” He was wrong, but it was nice of him to say. She got out of the back and was glad to see that Buffy and Oz were both getting out to accompany her. Somehow she didn’t think this was going to go as well as things had gone back at the mansion.  
  
Holding Willow’s hand, Buffy had to admit she wasn’t as hopeful as Oz seemed to be. Xander loved Willow, sure, but he reacted without thinking sometimes and his Angel issues… God this could end up being horrible, and that was the last thing Willow needed.   
  
Well, they were at the door now. Here goes nothing. She knocked.   
  
There was no car in the driveway and Xander was the one to answer the door. Good. Looked like his parents were out. But then he took one look at the three of them and said, “I thought we were doing this tomorrow.” Way to go with the welcome. Thanks for that.   
  
Willow was taken aback by Xander’s non-hello, but she didn’t exactly have any options. If she was going to say goodbye to her best friend, she was going to have to do it now. She tried to smile and quipped, “Hello to you too.”  
  
It seemed to have a chastening effect, because Xander quickly apologized. “Sorry. I’m glad to see you, Will. Come on in.” He stepped back and let Willow, along with her companions, enter the house. “Are you okay?” he asked.  
  
Whoa. Now there was a question, and not one she was going to answer honestly. She couldn’t handle it, not here, not now. “Yeah. I’m fine.”  
  
Silence reigned for a very long moment and Willow realized something. “You guys?” she asked Buffy and Oz, “Can you leave us alone?”  
  
“You sure?” Buffy’s eyes were full of concern and Willow appreciated it, but…  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“’Kay. We’ll be outside if you need us.” They walked out the door and Xander looked confused.  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
You mean besides having staked her lover? She decided to cut to the chase. “I’m leaving, Xander. I’m moving to Los Angeles. With Angel. Tonight.”  
  
“Wha… You can’t leave! Is this the Liam thing? Because, seriously? He was a total psycho. I mean, I admit I’m not Angel’s biggest fan, but I get saving his life and…” He stopped and stared at her. Guess he noticed that she wasn’t exactly responding to his rant. “I’m sorry. I know that you and Liam… It was a lot more meaningful than me and Faith and I probably shouldn’t have just… But that’s the reason you need your friends. I promise to be un-judgmental and not…” Grabbing her and hugging her tightly, he pleaded, “Please don’t go.”  
  
Willow began to cry, but as moved as she was, and as much as she knew she was going to miss Xander more than anyone, she wasn’t swayed. “I have to, Xan. I know you don’t understand, but… I… Things are different now. I need to figure stuff out.”  
  
“You can’t figure it out here?”  
  
Pulling back and focusing her watery eyes on his, she steeled herself and hoped somehow he’d get it. “No, I can’t. And before you say anything, Angel didn’t talk me into this.” Digging her Resolve Face out, she continued, “This is me making my own decisions. I have to do this. We’re still the last of the Musketeers and I love you, but I need to go.”  
  
Maybe the word ‘Musketeers’ had done it, or maybe Xander had grown up more than she’d known, but he nodded. “Okay. But you better have a _very_ comfortable couch, because I am so visiting you – often. Not like I have college or even a job with a hairnet and a nametag to worry about. I can freeload to my heart’s content.” Willow giggled and it felt like a blessing from on high. Xander hugged her again. “I love you, too.”  
  
They hugged each other in silence for a few minutes longer, and if the tears on her shirt weren’t her own, she wasn’t going to mention it. Then the embrace ended and she spoke. “I better go.”  
  
“Call me when you get there, okay?”  
  
“I promise.”  
  
“If Angel…”   
  
Willow cut him off at the pass. “He won’t.”  
  
“If he does…” Xander’s protectiveness was sweet and Willow decided not to object any further.  
  
“You’ll be the first to know.”  
  
With another quick hug and at least two more ‘I love you’s, she walked out the door to where Buffy and Oz were waiting for her. “It’s okay,” she said, managing to hold herself together. “Let’s go.”  
  
Buffy was curious – this was Xander and there was no telling what he’d said – but the last thing she wanted to do was pester Willow with questions and… okay, she _wanted_ to, but she wouldn’t. Instead, she just let Oz open the van doors for her and for Willow and waited until all of them were inside before asking, “Where to now? Giles? Back to Angel’s?”  
  
She hadn’t exactly expected Willow’s reply. “Can we go to my house? I kind of… I was sort of hoping you would go in and pack up some stuff for me.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	59. Chapter Fifty-Eight

  
Feral (Chapter Fifty-Eight)  
  
  
  
It was strange and even sort of eerie for Buffy – going through Willow’s stuff and packing her bags. There were clothes Liam had worn lying on the bed. Good thing Willow hadn’t come in here, because it even freaked Buffy out a little.  
  
Liam had saved Oz. He had.   
  
Willow wasn’t the only one having seriously mixed feelings right now.   
  
She went through the closet and drawers, remembering to choose Willow’s favorite clothes and not the stuff Buffy _wished_ she’d wear. With a pang, she left the leather mini on its hanger and grabbed the grotesquely fuzzy and shapeless sweater hanging next to it, along with the floral patterned skirt she hated but that Willow wore too often to assume she’d be okay with it somehow meeting a violent end.  
  
More fluffy sweaters, baggy shirts, and baggier pants and skirts followed and then, after a stop at Willow’s underwear drawer, the packing was done. Well, almost. She added Willow’s makeup bag and then headed into the bathroom to grab her shampoo and toothbrush and stuff. There.   
  
Uh oh. She’d better grab Willow’s laptop. Turning to the desk she saw it… and Liam’s. Would Willow want that one too? What if she didn’t?   
  
Well, she decided, picking up both and shoving them into another bag, she’d tell Willow what she’d done and she could make the decision to just toss the thing in a landfill or whatever you did with old computers if she wanted. But maybe something on this thing could give her closure or at least explain why Liam had turned so evil and that was a good enough reason to give it to her as far as Buffy was concerned.   
  
And yes, she did hope that Willow would share at least a piece of that explanation if she found it.  
  
Taking a box of photos and mementos from Willow’s dresser and adding it to the extremely-well-packed-if-she-did-say-so-h

erself suitcase, Buffy hoisted it and the backpack of electronics and papers and – turning off the light – left Willow’s room and headed back out to the van.

 

 

Willow sat uncomfortably in the parked van, waiting for Buffy to come back with her clothes and stuff. It was suddenly so very real – she was leaving Sunnydale. She was leaving home. “I really appreciate you guys doing this.”

“No problem.” Oz smiled kindly at her.

“I just couldn’t face…”

“I get it.” The smile remained, and so did the wisdom in his eyes.

“I guess you’re gonna skip the whole ‘rock star touring’ scenario, huh? Go to UC Sunnydale?” she asked –out of nowhere, even by her own wacky conversational standards.

“Yeah. Pretty much decided to go with the whole academic thing.” He looked down shyly as he spoke and Willow knew it was way more of a Buffy thing than a school thing keeping him tethered to this town.

“I think you made the right choice. Bet Buffy thinks so too.” She smiled at him, letting him know that she really was on board the Buffy and Oz train. Oz had never seemed so content… not even during their best times together.

Then he turned the ‘insight guy’ thing back on and fixed her with a long look. “You made the right choice too. Leaving.” He paused. “I’ll miss you, though.”

Her eyes filled with tears; they’d been doing that a lot lately. “I’ll miss you too.”

“Friends?”

Was he really so unsure? “Of course we are.”

He smiled and she did too. Then the van door slid open. “Hey!” Buffy was hearty and cheerful as she hoisted her cargo into the van and Willow’s whole life was now reduced to a suitcase and a backpack. Gosh she hoped Buffy had packed the right stuff.

“Thanks,” Willow said with a smile and Buffy could just tell that she was resisting the urge to open the suitcase to see what was in it.

“I packed only clothes I’ve seen you wear in the last three months,” Buffy assured her, noting with glee that she’d been so right – that was totally a sigh of relief from Willow just now. Sliding the side door closed, she noticed that Oz had leaned over to open the passenger door for her. A gentleman. She liked.

So she got into the van. “Where to? Giles’s place?”

 

 

Angel hung up the phone, chuckling to himself for now considering people who insisted on phone calls instead of email to be hopelessly old-fashioned. How quickly he’d become a computer snob, thanks to…. Well, mostly Willow, but… Yes, it had been Liam’s interest which had first sparked his own.

How had Liam become so different? What in that other world had managed to change his twin into the crazed demon who had tried to drain him? It would be easy to blame his captivity but… Angel had been to _Hell_ \- for centuries – and anyway, Liam seemed to have been different even before that. The friendship with Ted, never having been in love with Buffy, his warmer relationship with Darla… so many ways in which his counterpart was unlike him.

Questions – he had so many, and now there was no hope of ever getting answers. Add to that his guilt over having failed to subdue Liam himself, thus forcing Willow to have to kill him and he wondered if perhaps this was Liam’s ultimate revenge. How could Willow ever love him now? Now that he’d forced her to make such a terrible, brutal choice. Maybe she didn’t hate him _now_ , but with time to reflect…

No, he couldn’t see how that could happen. Not because Willow loved him, because she didn’t yet, but because she’d made the choice in the first place. His was the life she thought worth saving.

Oddly – or perhaps not oddly at all for a demon – that made him understand why Liam would fight so hard to have her all to himself. Because she wasn’t Buffy. There was no _calling_ inside her working its will to make her serve it. There was only Willow – one soul and no purpose save the one she created for herself.

It made them perfect for each other and he hoped someday she’d see it the same way. In the meantime… in the meantime he’d be the best friend he could be, try not to push or pressure her, and focus on making their way in Los Angeles – the so unsuitably named city full of everything _but_ angels, the city that needed them.

Heading to his closet, he began packing his own things. There was more than he’d thought… hmmm… now that there was not going to be any Buffy around to raise objections, maybe he’d wear those leather pants again.

 

 

Willow could still feel Giles’s arms around her as she got back into the van… for what might be the last ride she ever took in it. Maybe this had been the last time she’d see Giles too. Sure, she’d told everyone she would come back for visits, and she’d meant it, but… No, she wasn’t sure now at all. The future was a road made of fog and all she knew was that it was there.

Not that she was going to say any of this to Buffy or Oz. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling meant anything anyway; there was too much going on in her head and her heart to be certain of anything.

Well, there was one thing – she knew she was a murderer. That was a fact. And yeah, okay, maybe it looked like she was running away from it, but she wasn’t; she couldn’t.

Giles’s words echoed in her head like mockery, ‘You’re still the finest of us all.’ How could he say something like that? He couldn’t possibly have meant it. “Thanks, guys,” she said, trying to act as if she wasn’t torn up inside. She missed Giles already, missed them all already… and yet somehow she was ever more sure that she couldn’t leave Sunnydale soon enough. Numbness settled over her and she stared off into space, not seeing anything. At least it was better than seeing Liam turn to dust.

With a glance at Oz, Buffy climbed into the back of the van just before he pulled away from the curb. She pulled Willow into a hug. “He loves you, Will. Just like we all do.” Her arms stayed around Willow, but her best friend said nothing. She didn’t cry and she didn’t speak.

If only Buffy knew what was going through her head. This was… weird. Because Willow always talked about her feelings. Right now Buffy wanted to kick herself for complaining about Willow’s babbling in the past, because boy did she wish she could hear it again. Anything was better than this silence, this clueless void where she had no idea how to help someone she loved so much. “We do,” she repeated, but it didn’t seem to get through.

“I know,” Willow finally said, and Buffy pulled back to see her face, almost convinced by the soft smile. Guess she could understand if it wasn’t all the way there. She remembered how she’d felt when she’d run Angel through with the sword and sent him to Hell.

She had the briefest thought – what if Liam came back too? – but it faded quickly. This was different, after all. Liam had been supposed to die back in his own world. Now there were more thoughts – she was having thinky thoughts.

_One minus one equals one._

Faith’s words echoed in her head. Was that why Liam had somehow been brought here? Had he been here to right the chaos in the Slayer line which had happened when she’d died and then wasn’t dead anymore?

Maybe, huh. She didn’t say anything to Willow, though. Willow had lost her virginity to Liam. Had she loved him? Buffy hadn’t asked, but it seemed pretty likely. The last thing Willow needed to hear was something which implied that everything she’d gone through might have been all about Buffy – or Slayer stuff anyway.

They were pulling up to Angel’s mansion and Buffy suddenly felt all the breath leave her body. Oh God. Willow was leaving. She was really and truly leaving. Grabbing her friend again, she held her tighter than she ever had. “I love you,” she said through a sudden onslaught of tears.

Willow could hardly breathe, but she didn’t complain. She was going to miss Buffy very much. “I love you too,” she choked out. This was it. This was goodbye. Buffy’s hold finally loosened and she could take in enough air to add, “I’ll call you guys the minute I have a phone, okay?”

“Take care. Remember what I said.” Oz’s words were delivered with a half-smile, but the last were deadly serious and Willow was touched. She wondered if he realized that he knew her better now than he had when he was her boyfriend.

She smiled back and said, “Thanks. You take care too.” Turning to Buffy, she added, “Both of you.”

Another crushing hug from Buffy and then Willow gathered her belongings and got out the van, walking slowly toward the mansion. “Call me!” Buffy cried out and Willow turned back, but only for a second. Then she finished the walk to the house… and away from what had been her whole life. She was going to have to make a new one.

 

 

Angel sensed Willow’s approach before she entered what wasn’t going to be his house for much longer and he waited, wondering in what frame of mind she’d be.

The moment he saw her, the blotchy skin and scent of recent tears told him that her goodbyes had been as emotional as he’d expected. He noticed the bags she set down. “You went back to the house?”

She shook her head. “Buffy packed for me. I couldn’t…” He’d thought she was done when she surprised him. “Liam’s laptop is in there,” she said, nodding toward the backpack.

Oh. How to feel about that. What was lurking on the hard drive? He’d thought of so many questions earlier but now that there was some concrete possibility… no, he wasn’t certain at all that he wanted them answered. Still, having the laptop at least gave them the option... they could talk about it later. He turned the conversation back to the girl standing before him. “Are you okay?”

“This is really happening. I’m really leaving.”

“We are,” he affirmed. Without thinking he interjected a practical detail. “The rental company should have the car here any minute.”

It seemed to be the right thing to say. Her posture straightened and a certain determination crept into her mien. That determination was one of the things he loved about her. “Good.” She chewed her bottom lip and it was clear she was keeping her emotions in check. Unlike the humans around her, Angel knew that not everything needed to be let out immediately. Repression was just fine for the time being. She could talk later – when she was ready, when they weren’t _here_. “It’s time.”

And so it was, Angel realized, as he heard the footsteps which heralded the approach of the rental car company employee… or employees, he should say. Well, it was a logical sort of idea – sending a pair of employees to back each other up – and if Sunnydale’s problem was human, it would have been a good one. Of course, to vampires and other demons, it just meant a heartier meal. Lucky for them that Angel wasn’t the usual vampire.

Willow heard a very tentative knock and heard some whispering voices. She caught the words ‘dude’ and ‘creepy’ and she almost laughed. It was the oddest feeling in amongst all the pain and guilt roiling around inside her, but she couldn’t say she didn’t like it. Angel nodded at her, so she went and opened the door. The two guys standing there seemed to relax when they saw her. Good thing they didn’t know she was a killer, huh? “You guys brought the car?”

“Yeah.” The taller of the two spoke. Blond, acne… Willow vaguely remembered him as a senior when she had been attending some advanced classes on the high school campus back when she was still in middle school. He hadn’t changed much. “A 4Runner, just like you asked for.”

They’d asked for a 4Runner? Okay. Guess Angel had, but did they need anything… it was then that she turned back and finally saw Angel’s luggage. He was bringing a lot more stuff than she was. Guess the big car was a good idea after all. “Thanks, guys.”

Angel came up behind her, the waning sunlight barely a danger, and Willow zoned out of the manly discussion about mileage and return policies. She only reentered the here and now when Angel reached in front of her to take the keys and the two rental guys headed back the way they’d come. “Guess they came in two cars,” she offered. “Which makes sense since otherwise, how would they get back to the agency and… I’m sort of babbling. Sorry.”

He pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay. I like your babble.” For a brief – achingly brief – moment, she almost felt like her old self, but it was lie and she knew it. Maybe the new Willow would babble, but that wouldn’t mean she was the same girl she’d been before she turned killer. “It’s almost sundown.”

“It is,” she agreed. “Guess it’s time to leave.” Oh god. No more Espresso Pump. No more Bronze. No more… “Is L.A. nice?” she asked, her voice more plaintive than she liked, but it was too late to fix that.

“It’s a great place to get lost,” Angel replied. It was exactly what Willow needed to hear. She leaned back into his embrace as they waited for daylight to hurry up and leave already – just like they were going to do.

 

 

“I miss her already,” Buffy almost sobbed as she sat with Oz in the back of his van, grateful to have his arms around her.

“I know.” He held her close and didn’t try to say anything to comfort her; she appreciated that. Not like anything anybody could say would help and Oz got it.

He smelled good, she noticed. Some kind of spicy body wash and something else that was just him. She liked it. It was… comforting. And human. There was something to be said for a boyfriend who didn’t trip her Slayer senses in a bad way – well except for a couple of days a month. She could live with that.

Thanks to Liam, she’d have the chance to.

Should she tell Oz what she thought? About Liam and why he’d been brought here? Probably. But it could wait. Right now she just needed to cry and think about Willow and then cry some more. She needed help. “Oz? Can we go to the store?” She stared up into his questioning face… which looked just like every other one of his faces unless you knew him as well as she did. “I’m out of Ben and Jerry’s.” He smiled and let go of her, climbing back into the driver’s seat without a word of complaint.

Willow wouldn’t mind, she decided, if Buffy took a moment to be really, really grateful – and even happy. Oz was pretty much the perfect guy, at least for her. Someday… someday Willow would have this too, maybe even with Angel. That was a cheering thought and Buffy allowed it to make the impending tears not impend anymore, at least for a little while. She climbed into the passenger seat; she still wanted ice cream.

 

 

Angel had driven cautiously, never going over the speed limit – much to the seeming annoyance of a number of his fellow drivers – and so the trip hadn’t been as short as the online guide had suggested, but now… here they were. He stared at all the tall buildings. It hadn’t been that many years since he’d lived in the even larger and far more imposing city of New York and yet, inexplicably, he’d grown unaccustomed to the towering structures and gleaming lights. He realized, much to his shock, that he’d missed them – well, not the graffiti or the smog whose haze reminded him uncomfortably of the fire-lit world from which he’d emerged, but yes, he’d missed the modernity of it all. Without knowing it, he’d been evolving into a twentieth century vampire even before he’d taken up computers.

He looked over at the seat next to him, which was reclined far back, allowing Willow some much-needed and blessedly dreamless sleep. Honestly, he didn’t want to wake her up, but here they were, at the hotel where they’d be staying until the apartment was ready, so he had no choice.

A hand gently nudging her shoulder woke Willow from a sleep so sound that it took her a few seconds to realize where she was. “Waah,” she said incoherently as she struggled to sit, before realizing that she needed to adjust her seat. “We’re here?” she asked as she stared out the window. You know, she’d never thought of herself as some yokel, but just this little glimpse of Los Angeles…

But this was her home now, wasn’t it? She stared past Angel and at the imposing and kind of gaudy door of the hotel. What was it he’d said back at the mansion? Oh yeah. She took a deep breath before she turned to him and smiled. “Let’s get lost.”

 

 

The End


End file.
